CVT. 


Tfrfcs 


THE  PRIZE  CUP 


THE  PRIZE  CUP 


BY- 

J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE 


NEW  YORK 

THE  CENTURY  CO. 
1896 


Copyright,  1895,  1896, 
By  THE  CENTURY  Co. 

Copyright,  1896,  by 
J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE 


All  rights  reserved 


THE  DEVINNE  PRESS,  NEW  YORK. 


Clcnilia 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  GID  KETTERELL'S  CHARGE  1 

II  GIDEON  AT  HOME  7 

III  THE  BOY  WITH  THE  LAWN-SPRINKLER  12 

IV  MIDGET  AND  HIS  CHAMPION  17 
V  AT  THE  PARSONAGE  24 

VI  "!T  's  DEAD  AGAINST  THE  RULES"  29 

VII  "Snow  ME  THAT  CUP!"  34 

VIII  THE  PHCEBE'S  NEST  42 

IX  THE  Two  BICYCLE-RIDERS  50 

X  "  STRANGE  THINGS  HAPPEN  IN  THIS  HOUSE  ! "          57 

XI  "WHERE  's  THAT  CUP?"  65 

XII  GID'S  ENTANGLEMENT  71 

XIII  GID  LOSES  HIS  SITUATION  77 

XIV  MIDGET  AND  HIS  FRIENDS  84 
XV  TRACY  TRIUMPHANT  93 

XVI  TRACY  GETS  A  "  CLUE  "  98 

XVII  GIDEON  MEETS  HIS  FOE  106 

XVIII  OSK  ORDWAY'S  LITTLE  FINGER  114 

vii 


viii  CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 


PAGE 


XIX  TRACY  LISLE  AND  DORD  OLIVER  120 

XX  FOLLOWING  UP  THE  "CLUE"  131 

XXI  TRACY'S  TELEGRAM  141 

XXII  GRAN'SIR  PUDGWICK  147 

XXIII  THE  OLD  PAINT  SHOP  157 

XXIV  OSK  OFFERS  TO  ASSIST  IN  THE  SEARCH  163 
XXV  How  OSK  ASSISTED  170 

XXVI  TEACHING  THE  DUMB  TO  SPEAK  179 

XXVII  AN  AMAZING  DISCOVERY  187 

XXVIII  A  FAMILY  COUNCIL  192 

XXIX  A  MERRY  PORCH  PARTY  198 

XXX  GID  KETTERELL  CONFESSES  204 

XXXI  OSK  IN  COURT  214 

XXXII  "His  'BETTERMOST'  COAT"  222 

XXXIII  WHO  KEPT  THE  CUP  231 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

FRED  MELVERTON  LEAVES  GID  KETTERELL  > 

>     Frontispiece 
IN  POSSESSION  ) 

PAGE 

" i THE  CUP  is  GONE ! '"  63 

"GiD  MOVED  SULLENLY  AWAY"  81 

"  FRED   CROSSED   THE  BROOK  AND  CAUGHT  HIM  UP  IN 

HIS  ARMS"  87 

"  t  WHY,  WHAT  is  IT,  TRACE  "? '  ASKED  IDA  LISLE  "  99 

"  '  THEY  'RE  TALKING  ABOUT  ME,'  HE  MUTTERED  "  111 

"  '  COME,  DORD,'  SAID  TRACY.    i  SPEAK  RIGHT  OUT  ' "  125 

"  HE  LIFTED  HIS  TATTERED  STRAW  HAT  "  149 

OSK  ASSISTS  IN  THE  SEARCH  173 

MIDGET  REVEALS  A  SECRET  189 

"'THE  THING  IN  THE   POCKET  WAS  THIS'"  228 


ix 


THE  PRIZE  CUP 


THE  PRIZE  CUP 


CHAPTER  I      J,a  ,A\;,,H'  Ur 

GID    KETTERELL'S    CHARGE 

N  the  outskirts  of  the  village  a  little 
brook  came  gurgling  down  from  the 
hills,  gossiping  among  boulders  and 
loitering  in  pools,  light-stepping  and 
blithe  as  a  school-girl.  It  lingered 
a  long  while  under  a  cool  bridge,  where  its  sandy 
channel  was  crossed  by  the  village  street,  then 
went  tripping  and  singing  onward  to  the  river, 
less  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away. 

Just  above  the  bridge  and  a  little  back  from  the 
street,  with  only  the  brook  and  its  shady  banks 
between  them,  were  two  as  pleasant  rural  homes 
as  you  will  find  anywhere  in  a  day's  drive  among 
New  England  suburbs.  The  one  on  the  left  (as  you 
looked  over  at  them  from  the  bridge)  was  the  old 
parsonage  :  a  plain,  three-gabled  white  house,  with 


2  THE  PEIZE  CUP 

a  broad  porch,  a  pretty  garden  of  shrubbery  and 
fruit-trees,  a  grassy  front  yard,  and  a  background 
of  wooded  hillsides.    This  had  been  the  home  of 
the  best  beloved  minister  the  parish  had  ever  had, 
until  his  death  two  or  three  years  before;  it  was 
still  ,d&$J2jb|efl  by  his  widow,  Mrs.  Lisle,  and  their 
tt  ,cthreie  children,,  and  the  present  minister,  a  young 
''  btiarded  with  her. 


The  residence  on  the  right  (you  are  still  looking 
from  the  bridge)  was  more  modern  and  much  more 
pretentious.  It  was  painted  in  soft  contrasting 
buff  and  brown  colors;  it  had  imposing  piazzas, 
bay  windows  and  turrets,  and  large  plate-glass 
panes,  through  which,  when  the  Melvertons  were 
at  home  and  the  house  was  open,  you  had  charm- 
ing glimpses  of  rich  draperies. 

But  it  was  often  closed  in  summer.  Why  any- 
body should  wish  to  leave  so  lovely  a  country- 
home  in  the  loveliest  season  of  the  year  was  a 
mystery  to  many  people.  But  Mrs.  Melverton  (she 
also  was  a  widow)  thought  a  change  desirable  for 
her  children  and  especially  for  herself  ;  and  punc- 
tually on  the  fifth  day  of  July  of  every  year  (the 
boys  stayed  for  the  boat-races  on  the  Fourth)  the 
house  was  shut  up,  and  the  family  went  off  to 
spend  a  few  weeks  at  the  seaside. 


GID  KETTERELL'S  CHARGE  3 

Again  this  year,  on  the  forenoon  of  the  fifth,  a 
wagon-load  of  family  trunks  was  sent  off.  early  to 
be  forwarded  by  rail,  accompanied  by  the  second 
son  and  two  servants,  who  were  to  open  the  sea- 
side cottage.  Mrs.  Melverton  departed  soon  after, 
in  her  own  carriage,  with  the  younger  children, 
while  Fred,  the  oldest  son,  was  left  to  lock  up  the 
house  and  follow  on  his  bicycle. 

Fred  had  gone  through  the  upper  chambers,  and 
at  last  stood  before  the  sideboard  in  the  dining- 
room,  looking  intently  at  a  gold-lined  silver  goblet 
held  in  his  hand:  a  beautiful  prize  which  he  had 
won  in  a  race  on  the  river  the  day  before.  It  bore 
an  engraved  inscription  commemorating  the  event, 
with  a  blank  left  for  the  winner's  name. 

"  I  ought  to  have  had  this  sent  to  the  engraver's, 
after  bringing  it  home  to  show  to  the  family,"  he 
said  to  himself ;  "  or  I  should  have  packed  it  for 
the  beach.  I  don't  like  to  take  it  on  my  safety 
for  an  eighteen-mile  run." 

Perceiving  a  movement  behind  him,  he  turned 
and  saw  a  boy,  about  sixteen  years  old,  standing 
in  the  open  door  that  led  into  the  back  entry. 
This  was  Gideon  Ketterell  (commonly  called  Gid), 
who  was  to  be  left  in  charge  of  the  house,  and  to 
whom  the  young  master  had  been  giving  instruc- 


4  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

tions  as  to  the  care  of  it.  Fred  had  not  intended 
to  exhibit  the  cup,  and  he  was  about  to  slip  it 
quietly  out  of  sight,  when,  reflecting  that  Gideon 
had  probably  noticed  it  in  his  hand,  he  concluded 
it  would  be  better  to  take  the  boy  a  little  into  his 
confidence. 

"Have  you  seen  this,  Grid?"  he  asked,  holding 
it  up  in  the  light  that  came  through  the  lace  dra- 
peries of  a  window  the  blinds  of  which  were 
still  open. 

"I  saw  it  when  it  was  presented  on  the  boat- 
house  float  yesterday,"  the  boy  replied,  approach- 
ing, as  it  was  extended  for  his  inspection.  "  The 
fellows  all  envied  you  then,  I  tell  you ! "  he  ex- 
claimed, with  a  grin  of  bashful  admiration.  "  Splen- 
did, ain't  it  ? " 

"It  will  do,"  said  young  Melverton,  with  quiet 
satisfaction.  "  You  can  go  now.  I  '11  meet  you 
outside." 

He  did  n't  care  to  be  seen  locking  the  cup  in  the 
sideboard  drawer.  Yet  the  boy  might  have  ob- 
served what  was  done  with  it  if  he  had  had  the 
curiosity  to  turn  in  the  dim  entry,  and  look  back 
through  the  half-open  door.  That  Gid  Ketterell 
was  not  altogether  lacking  in  that  very  human 
trait  will  be  shown  in  the  course  of  our  story. 


GID  KETTERELL'S  CHARGE  5 

The  young  master  presently  went  out  by  the 
front  door,  taking  the  key  with  him,  while  Gid 
made  his  exit  by  a  rear  door,  walked  around  the 
house,  and  met  him  at  the  foot  of  the  piazza  steps. 

"Well,  Gideon,"  Fred  Melverton  said,  standing 
beside  his  shining  wheel, — a  fine  athletic  figure,  in 
his  dark-gray  bicycle  cap  and  suit, — "you  have 
your  key,  and  I  have  mine,  and  now  I  am  off. 
You  think  you  understand  everything  I  have  told 
you?  " 

"  I  guess  so,"  Gideon  replied  earnestly. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  would  be  left  in  a  position 
of  responsibility  and  advantage  to  which  he  had 
looked  forward  with  anxious  joy  and  pride;  and 
now,  at  the  last  moment,  he  felt  his  heart  beat 
with  repressed  excitement. 

He  had  a  good-natured  face,  a  short  nose  with 
uptilted  nostrils,  which  invited  you  provokingly  to 
look  into  them,  a  weak  nether  lip,  and  slouching 
manners, — all  in  singular  contrast  with  the  clear- 
cut  features  and  resolute  mien  of  the  trim  young 
prize-winner  who  stood  before  him. 

" — If  I  don't  forget,"  the  boy  added,  feeling  the 
other's  keen  blue  eyes  upon  him. 

"You  must  n't  forget.  One  thing  particularly. 
You  're  a  good  boy,  Gideon,  as  your  mother  says, 


6  THE  PEIZE  CUP 

if  you  only  keep  free  from  bad  influences.  There 's 
a  certain  class  of  boys  that  must  n't  come  about 
this  place  while  you  are  here.  I  don't  mean  such 
boys  as  Tracy  Lisle;  the  more  you  see  of  young 
fellows  like  him  the  better." 

"But  he  does  n't  care  to  see  much  of  me,"  said 
Gideon,  with  a  sheepish  hanging  of  the  head. 

"I  'm  afraid  that  's  more  your  fault  than  his," 
Fred  Melverton  replied.  "  It  is  because  you  see  too 
much  of  the  other  class  of  boys.  I  mean  those 
that  take  Oscar  Ordway  for  a  leader.  Oscar,  es- 
pecially, you  are  to  steer  clear  of.  Have  nothing 
whatever  to  say  to  him  if  he  comes  about  the 
place.  I  suppose  it  is  hardly  necessary  I  should 
charge  you  to  let  nobody  into  the  house  unless  he 
brings  an  order  from  my  mother  or  me." 

"Of  course  I  should  know  enough  for  that,"  Grid- 
eon  replied,  with  a  foggy  sort  of  smile  playing 
about  his  irresolute  mouth. 

"Of  course!"  the  young  proprietor  repeated. 
"Good-by!" 

And,  with  a  farewell  wave  of  the  hand,  he  re- 
mounted his  wheel,  and  sped  swiftly  away.  The 
boy's  face  brightened. 

"I  'm  master  now,"  he  said  aloud;  "and  I  've 
got  a  soft  snap ! " 


CHAPTER  II 

GIDEON  AT  HOME 

|E  said  that  to  himself  two  or  three 
times  on  his  way  home  to  dinner, 
he  said  it  to  boys  he  met  in  the 
village,  and  he  said  it  to  his  mother, 
whom  he  found  hanging  clothes  on 
a  line  in  the  back  yard. 

His  father  also  overheard  the  remark  as  he  sat 
on  a  bench  by  the  shed  door,  smoking  his  pipe, 
with  his  feet  on  a  box ;  but  it  was  n't  meant  for 
him.  "  Old  man  Ketterell "  did  n't  count  for  much 
in  his  own  household. 

The  mother  was  a  woman-of-all-work  who  was 
very  favorably  regarded  in  the  village  for  her  ex- 
cellent washing  and  ironing  and  scrubbing,  for  her 
stout  frame  and  her  equally  stout  integrity,  and 
for  her  tireless  energy  in  supporting  her  family  of 
four  children,  as  well  as  the  husband  and  father, 
who  (as  she  herself  declared,  from  bitter  knowledge 
of  the  fact)  was  "too  shifless  to  breathe."  She  was 


8  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

of  Irish  parentage;  and  it  was  thought  that  Ket- 
terell,  who  came  of  a  good  American  family,  sunk 
pretty  low  in  the  social  scale  when  he  married  her. 
But  now  people  wondered  how  low  he  would  have 
sunk  if  she  had  n't  (so  to  speak)  kept  his  nose 
above  water. 

He  got  the  nickname  of  "  old  man "  Ketterell 
before  he  was  forty,  by  which  time  he  had  content- 
edly settled  down  into  a  state  of  shameless  depen- 
dence upon  her  industry.  He  was  always  "waiting 
for  a  job  w;  while  jobs  were  always  waiting  for  her 
—  sometimes  weeks  ahead.  She  had  red  arms, 
greenish  eyes,  and  tawny  hair  combed  straight 
back  over  her  head  and  down  her  neck. 

The  greenish  eyes  gave  Gideon  a  contemptuous 
flash  as  he  came  bragging  into  the  yard. 

"A  snap,  is  it?"  she  cried,  stooping  for  a  clothes- 
pin. "  That  's  your  notion  of  exerting  yourself  to 
gain  an  honest  living,  as  it  has  been  your  father's 
notion  before  you !  " 

Old  man  Ketterell  took  his  pipe  from  his  mouth 
with  a  scowling  grimace,  as  if  minded  to  answer 
the  taunt,  but  merely  changed  the  position  of  his 
legs  on  the  box,  sighed  resignedly,  and  put  his 
pipe  back  again.  Mrs.  Ketterell  usually  governed 
her  domestic  realm  with  exemplary  patience  and 


GIDEON  AT  HOME  9 

benevolence;  but  when  there  were  signs  of  these 
fine  qualities  becoming  overstrained,  it  was  the 
part  of  wisdom  (as  the  easy-going  old  man  used 
to  say)  "to  stand  from  under." 

"A  mighty  poor  notion  it  is ! "  she  went  on,  pin- 
ning a  wet  garment  to  the  sagging  line,  " — the 
worst  possible  way  to  take  advantage  of  a  chance 
that  has  come  to  you  as  this  one  has.  Hold  up 
that  pail  of  clo'es-pins  for  me,  will  you  ?  Don't  be 
so  tender  of  your  own  precious  back,  when  you  see 
me  tugging  and  straining  as  I  am  now." 

Gideon  obeyed  meekly. 

"  You  are  to  have  five  dollars  a  week,  without  an 
employer's  eyes  to  keep  ye  straight,"  she  continued. 
"  You  can  do  much,  or  you  can  do  little,  according 
to  your  conscience :  make  an  honest  job  of  it,  earn 
your  wages,  and  be  gaining  a  good  character  into 
the  bargain ;  or  you  can  make  a  snap  of  it,  slight 
your  work,  and  begin  investing  your  youth  in  the 
rotten  bank  your  father  has  been  putting  his  capi- 
tal into  all  his  life,  with  the  results  you  know." 

Gideon  cast  a  glance  over  the  pan  of  clothes- 
pins in  the  direction  of  his  easy-going  parent,  who, 
I  regret  to  say,  gave  him  an  indulgent  wink. 

"  But  let  me  tell  you  one  thing  most  emphatic- 
ally!" she  added,  standing  with  a  wet  and  wrinkled 


10  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

skirt  half  unfolded  on  her  hands.  "  If  you  misbe- 
have in  the  matters  the  Melvertons  have  intrusted 
you  with,  out  of  the  pure  kindness  of  their  hearts, 
and  their  respect  for  your  hard-working  parent, — 
everybody  knows  which  parent  that  is! — if  you 
fool  away  your  chance,  or  come  out  of  it  with  a 
bad  name,  I  promise  you  such  a  whaling  as  you 
have  n't  enjoyed  the  blessing  of  for  many  a  day ! " 

Gideon  looked  hard  at  the  clothes-pins,  and 
waited  for  the  squall  to  blow  over.  She  resumed : 

"  I  'm  minded  to  administer  it  to  you  now,  at  the 
outset,  to  make  sure  of  your  excellent  conduct. 
There  's  nothing  under  the  broad  canopy  so  whole- 
some and  improving  to  you  as  a  smart  walloping. 
It  corrects  your  bad  tendencies,  and  just  fills  you 
up  with  goodness  for  a  month  or  two.  It 's  a  sort 
of  discipline  that  would  work  well,  too,  in  another 
case  I  might  mention;  for  I  can  see  him  nodding 
and  winking  at  you  now,  through  his  everlasting 
pipe  smoke ! " 

Old  man  Ketterell  stopped  signaling  instantly, 
and  looked  discreetly  serious ;  there  being  perhaps 
some  grounds  for  the  popular  belief  that  the  strong- 
armed  washerwoman  could  handle  her  husband  as 
a  cat  tosses  a  mouse,  and  that  she  had  been  known 
to  do  it  at  times  of  extreme  provocation. 


GIDEON  AT  HOME  11 

"What  do  you  say  for  yourself — you  son  of 
your  father,  every  inch  of  you  1 "  she  demanded, 
poising  the  last  of  the  clothes-pins. 

"  Of  course  I  'm  going  to  do  my  best,"  said  Gid- 
eon, as  if  he  meant  it ;  and  no  doubt  he  did  mean 
it  sincerely  at  the  moment,  with  the  green  fire  of 
his  mother's  menacing  eyes  flashing  down  upon 
him. 

Her  manner  changed  in  an  instant;  the  stern 
features  softened. 

"  That 's  what  I  've  been  waiting  for  you  to  say ; 
and  now  if  you  '11  pledge  yourself  to  keep  that 
good  resolution,  you  may  come  in  to  dinner;  for 
I  see  Lucy  has  got  the  potatoes  on  the  table.  The 
deserving  and  the  undeserving  will  sit  down  to- 
gether," she  added,  with  a  grim  look  at  her  husband. 


CHAPTER  III 


THE   BOY  WITH   THE  LAWN-SPRINKLEK 

HE  Melverton  house  had  been  closed 
three  days,  or  opened  only  to  let  in 
air  and  sunshine  in  fine  weather, 
according  to  the  instructions  Mr. 
Fred  had  given  the  boy  who  was 
left  in  charge.  It  was  fine  weather  on  the  eighth, — 
almost  too  fine, — for  the  early  part  of  July  that 
year  was  dry.  The  place  that  morning  presented 
a  pleasing  picture;  the  brook  plashed  in  the  little 
ravine,  under  the  rhododendrons  that  bordered  it 
on  the  Melverton  side ;  the  jets  of  a  fountain  on 
the  edge  of  the  lawn  glittered  in  the  sun;  birds 
flitted  about  among  the  firs  and  larches  and  fruit- 
trees  ;  and  a  single  human  figure  added  life  to  the 
scene. 

This  was  a  coatless  boy,  in  a  broad-brimmed 
straw  hat,  with  a  pair  of  dark  suspenders  forming 
a  large  letter  X  on  the  back  of  his  shirt — a  homely 
boy  with  a  short  nose,  uptilted  at  an  angle  of  about 


THE  BOY  WITH  THE  LAWN-SPBINKLEK  13 

forty-five  degrees,  and  a  loose  under  lip — in  short, 
the  boy  we  know.  Not  so  handsome  as  some  boys 
you  may  have  seen ;  yet  it  must  be  owned  that  he 
gave  a  very  pretty  effect  to  the  landscape,  stand- 
ing there  on  the  edge  of  the  lawn,  before  the  banks 
of  flower-beds  in  front  of  the  house,  holding  the 
end  of  a  hose  which  stretched  its  wavy  length 
away  across  the  green  grass  and  graveled  walk 
like  a  preposterously  long  and  slim  black  snake. 

The  head  of  the  snake  in  the  boy's  hand  was  a 
lawn-sprinkler,  which  gave  it  a  prodigious  crest 
of  silver  spray,  out-glittering  the  fountain  itself, 
forming,  indeed,  a  sort  of  movable  fountain,  that 
danced  about  on  the  lawn,  and  among  the  flowers 
and  shrubs,  at  the  boy's  own  sweet  will. 

He  seemed  to  find  pleasure  in  his  task,  if  ever  a 
boy  did.  He  sent  the  showers  wherever  his  fancy 
led,  now  on  the  flower-beds,  and  now  on  the  lawn, 
even  occasionally  on  the  fountain  itself,  to  watch 
the  curiously  mingling  jets ;  watering  a  good  deal 
in  the  most  convenient  places,  and  neglecting  too 
much  some  that  could  n't  be  reached  without  more 
effort  than  he  cared  to  put  forth.  Sometimes  he 
amused  himself  by  making  rainbow  flashes  in  the 
spray,  tossing  it  in  the  sunshine,  regardless  where 
it  fell,  even  when  it  came  down  upon  his  own 


14  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

head.  And  all  the  while  he  indulged  his  boyish 
dreams. 

He  dreamed,  for  one  thing,  that  the  hose  was 
long  enough  so  that  he  could  carry  his  sprinkler 
to  the  river,  and  make  a  mimic  rain  that  might 
delude  the  fish  into  biting,  as  they  are  thought  to 
do  on  wet  days  better  than  in  fine  weather. 

He  also  dreamed  that  he  was  no  longer  the  son 
of  old  man  Ketterell  and  the  village  washerwoman, 
but  one  of  the  Melverton  boys,  and  that  this  fine 
estate  was  his  rightful  home. 

He  would  have  liked  very  well  to  be  Fred  or 
Frank  Melverton  for  a  little  while,  but  perhaps  not 
all  the  time.  He  would  have  liked  their  guns  and 
their  bicycles,  and  some  of  their  money  to  spend 
(or  rather  a  good  deal  of  it),  and,  instead  of  having 
them  "boss"  him,  he  would  have  much  preferred 
to  boss  them.  But  as  to  the  rest — the  hard  study- 
ing (Fred  was  in  the  Institute  of  Technology,  and 
Frank  was  preparing  for  Harvard),  the  cultivated 
manners,  and  the  kind  of  company  they  kept  —  he 
was  n't  at  all  sure  but  that  he  might  just  as  well 
remain  Grid  Ketterell,  with  his  own  boy  life  un- 
bothered  by  books,  and  with  his  own  free-and-easy 
companions. 

Steady  occupation,  or  restraint  of  any  sort,  did 


THE  BOY  WITH  THE  LAWN-SPRINKLER  15 

not  suit  his  constitution.  But  lie  now  had  a  job 
about  as  much  to  his  mind  as  anything  in  the  way 
of  employment  could  well  be.  He  had  been  at  it 
three  days,  and  had  n't  got  sick  of  it  yet.  Besides 
having  a  general  care  of  the  house,  and  watering 
the  garden,  he  was  to  feed  the  cat  and  the  chick- 
ens, run  the  lawn-mower,  and  keep  the  flower-beds 
free  from  weeds,  with  other  light  duties  usually 
performed  by  the  coachman,  now  absent  with  the 
family.  Gid  had  not  yet  got  so  far  as  hoeing  and 
pulling  weeds,  which,  being  the  most  disagreeable 
of  his  tasks,  he  naturally  postponed  as  long  as 
possible. 

Having  sprinkled  some  things  that  needed  water, 
and  several  others  that  did  n't,  he  was  not  the  kind 
of  boy  to  miss  a  chance  of  giving  the  cat  a  shower- 
bath.  Puss  darted  away,  shaking  herself,  to  his 
immense  delight. 

"It  did  n't  take  her  long  to  get  her  money's 
worth ! "  was  his  comment  on  this  pleasant  in- 
cident. 

He  bethought  him  next  to  look  into  the  trees  for 
a  bird's  nest,  which  could  n't  escape  so  easily.  A 
nest  of  young  birds  with  a  pair  of  distressed  old 
ones  hovering  and  chirping  about  to  defend  them, 
would  have  been  especially  inviting.  He  found 


16  THE  PBIZE  CUP 

only  a  purple  finch's  nest,  from  which  the  young 
finches  had  fortunately  flown;  he  was  showering 
that,  and  imagining  what  sport  it  would  be  if  the 
little  half -fledged  bodies  were  still  there  to  receive 
the  drenching  (though  Gid  was  not  an  exception- 
ally bad-hearted  boy),  when  a  chance  for  livelier 
mischief  presented  itself. 

"  There  's  Midget ! "  he  said  to  himself,  turning 
his  back,  and  pretending  not  to  notice  a  child 
straying  up  through  the  shrubbery  from  the  brook- 
side.  "  I  '11  give  him  Hail  Columby ! " 


CHAPTER  IV 

MIDGET  AND   HIS   CHAMPION 

3  was  a  little  fellow,  not  more  than 
five  or  six  years  old,  and  small  for 
his  years.  He  wore  a  short  frock 
like  a  girl's,  that  showed  beneath 
it  his  bare  brown  legs  and  feet ;  he 
was  bareheaded,  and  he  had  fine  flaxen  hair,  the 
light  locks  of  which  strayed  over  his  tanned  fore- 
head as  the  bushes  brushed  it,  or  the  wind  blew. 
It  was  as  bright  and  happy  a  face  at  that  mo- 
ment as  the  morning  sun  shone  upon.  Yet  there 
was  something  strange  about  it,  you  could  hardly 
have  told  what :  there  was  something  strange  in  all 
the  looks  and  movements  of  this  wandering  elf.  If 
he  had  been  the  only  being  in  the  world,  he  could  n't 
have  seemed  more  lonely  or  more  deeply  absorbed 
in  his  own  little  life.  He  drew  down  the  drooping 
rhododendron  branches  as  if  he  loved  them,  and 
held  the  glossy  leaves  to  his  cheeks  and  lips.  And 
when  he  came  to  the  flower-beds,  he  clasped  his 


17 


18  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

tiny  hands  as  he  bent  over  the  blooms  in  mute 
rapture,  touching  and  smelling. 

He  did  not  hear  Grideon  Ketterell,  who  came  up 
behind  him ;  he  did  not  even  hear  the  pattering  of 
the  hose-shower  on  the  borders  and  walks.  Alas ! 
for  more  than  three  years  those  little  ears  had 
never  heard  a  sound,  neither  the  songs  of  birds 
nor  the  falling  of  the  summer  rain,  nor  the  voice 
of  any  other  child,  of  brother  or  sister,  nor  the 
words  of  endearment  his  mother  bestowed  upon 
him  all  the  more  passionately  for  his  sad  bereave- 
ment. He  had  forgotten  to  prattle,  or  even  to  call 
her  by  the  dearest  of  all  names. 

His  mother  was  the  Widow  Lisle,  whose  home 
was  across  the  brook.  This  was  her  youngest 
child,  Laurence,  pet-named  Laurie,  but  oftenest 
called  Midget  on  account  of  his  odd  ways,  small 
size,  and  restless  and  sometimes  mischievous  ac- 
tivity. He  was  an  object  of  love  and  wonder  and 
pity  to  almost  everybody,  only  a  few  of  the  rudest 
boys  making  fun  of  his  infirmity.  Grid,  I  regret  to 
record,  was  one  of  these. 

Midget  had  plucked  a  sprig  of  heliotrope,  and 
was  holding  it  to  his  face  in  an  ecstasy  of  pleasure, 
when  Grid,  who  had  been  watching  for  a  favorable 
moment,  turned  the  hose  full  upon  him.  In  a  mo- 


MIDGET  AND  HIS  CHAMPION  19 

ment  the  child  was  completely  drenched.  But  the 
result  was  n't  just  what  Gideon  had  anticipated. 
Midget  did  not  run  away  as  the  cat  did;  he  did 
not  scream — the  helpless  child  had  long  since  lost 
the  power  to  scream.  He  turned,  and  with  the 
water  dripping  from  his  hair  and  face  and  arms, 
gave  Grid  a  look  of  such  astonishment  and  distress, 
that  it  must  have  touched  even  that  careless  nature, 
for  Gid  immediately  pointed  the  sprinkler  away. 

"You  should  n't  be  picking  the  flowers.  I  am 
here  to  take  care  of  'em,"  Grid  said,  by  way  of 
excusing  himself  to  himself,  rather  than  to  the 
child,  who  could  n't  hear. 

Having  winked  the  water  from  his  eyes,  the 
child  kept  them  fixed  on  Gid  with  an  intense 
frowning  gaze,  full  of  unutterable  grief  and  re- 
proach, marvelous  in  one  so  young,  at  the  same 
time  backing  slowly  away  as  from  an  object  of 
dread.  So  he  reached  the  rhododendrons,  into 
which  he  darted  and  disappeared. 

"  What  did  the  little  imp  look  at  me  that  way 
for?"  Gid  muttered,  with  an  uncomfortable  feel- 
ing, as  he  began  to  reflect  seriously  on  what  he 
had  done.  u  The  wetting  won't  do  him  any  harm, 
though  his  mother  may  n't  see  it  in  that  light. 
Anyhow,  he  won't  come  in  here  again  very  soon." 


20  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

Grid  was  mistaken,  however,  about  that.  He  was 
watering  the  flower-beds  profusely,  and  trying  to 
forget  the  unpleasant  incident,  when  a  rustling  of 
the  rhododendrons  and  a  sound  of  footsteps  at- 
tracted his  attention;  and  there,  emerging  from 
the  bushes,  was  Midget,  dragging  forward  by  the 
coat-skirt  a  boy  of  about  Grid's  own  age  and  size. 

It  was  Tracy  Lisle,  the  little  deaf-mute's  elder 
brother. 

"  Hello,  Trace ! "  said  Gideon  carelessly,  as  he 
proceeded  with  his  sprinkling. 

Master  Lisle  advanced  with  stern  looks  and  de- 
termined steps  to  the  graveled  walk  where  Grid 
stood.  He  wore  a  somewhat  soiled  suit  of  gray, 
and  a  soft  felt  hat  with  the  rim  turned  up  in  front, 
giving  him  a  somewhat  aggressive  aspect,  and  he 
walked  straight  up  to  Master  Ketterell.  His  blue 
eyes  sparkled,  and  his  naturally  ruddy  face  had  a 
flush  of  excitement  in  it,  as  he  demanded: 

"Gid  Ketterell,  what  did  you  wet  my  little 
brother  for!" 

"  Oh,  him  1 "  Grid  replied,  with  a  laugh.  "  I  was 
watering  when  he  came  in  the  way  of  my  sprink- 
ler. That 's  all  there  is  about  that." 

"  Gid  Ketterell,"  the  older  brother  replied,  "  if 
every  true  word  you  speak  was  a  bushel  of  cher- 


MIDGET  AND  HIS  CHAMPION  21 

ries  on  that  tree,  there  would  n't  be  enough  to 
climb  for.  He  got  his  wetting  in  a  different  way." 

"  How  do  you  know  1 "  Grid  retorted,  with  sullen 
defiance. 

"  He  says  so." 

"  Says  so  ?  I  never  knew  the  little  monkey  could 
speak."  And  Gid  giggled. 

"Little  monkey?  —  call  my  brother  little  mon- 
key!" Tracy  cried  out,  in  blazing  indignation. 

"  You  must  n't  dispute  my  word  then,"  said  Grid, 
starting  back  in  a  belligerent  attitude,  and  point- 
ing his  hose  aside.  "Need  n't  double  your  fist 
and  look  so  savage  !  Don't  you  strike  me,  Trace 
Lisle!" 

"I  've  no  notion  of  striking  you,  much  as  you 
deserve  it,"  Tracy  replied.  "  My  fist  doubled  itself, 
as  any  honest  fist  would,  knowing  what  you  've 
done,  and  then  hearing  you  deny  it,  and  call  him 
such  a  name  as  that ;  a  child  that  can't  even  speak 
in  self-defense ! " 

"Oh!  I  thought  he  could  speak!"  Grid  jeered, 
still  watering  his  flowers,  while  he  stood  ready  to 
dodge  a  blow. 

"  He  can't  speak  a  word,  and  you  know  it.  For 
all  that,  he  can  tell  more  truth  in  half  a  minute 
than  you  are  apt  to  tell  in  all  day.  He  ran  home 


22  THE  PEIZE   CUP 

and  told  just  how  he  got  his  drenching.  Now  he  '11 
tell  you." 

So  saying,  Tracy  made  a  gesture  to  the  child, 
who  stood  watching  the  disputants  as  eagerly  and 
as  intelligently  as  if  he  had  understood  every  word. 
A  brief  communication  by  signs  passed  between 
the  brothers ;  Midget  ran  to  the  edge  of  the  flower- 
bed, pretended  to  pick  a  sprig  of  heliotrope  and 
hold  it  to  his  nose,  and  then  suddenly  to  feel  the 
shower  from  Gid's  sprinkler  splash  over  him ;  act- 
ing the  little  pantomime  with  an  amusing  liveli- 
ness at  which  Gid  had  to  laugh. 

"  He  did  n't  come  in  the  way  of  your  sprinkler ; 
the  sprinkler  came  in  his  way,"  said  Tracy. 

"I  guess  that  's  about  the  size  of  it,"  Gid  an- 
swered. "He  was  hooking  flowers;  I  am  here  to 
protect  the  flowers,  and  I  thought  I  'd  give  him 
a  lesson." 

"He  hooking  flowers  ?  I  'd  like  to  hear  you  say 
that  to  one  of  the  Melvertons ! "  Tracy  exclaimed. 
"  They  encourage  him  to  come  in  and  pick  all  the 
flowers  he  wants.  They  're  as  kind  to  him  as  if  he 
was  their  own  child,  and  they  're  always  sending 
bouquets  to  my  mother.  The  idea  of  your  protect- 
ing the  flowers  from  any  one  of  us,  and  especially 
from  him ! "  And  he  made  a  motion  for  Midget  to 


MIDGET  AND  HIS  CHAMPION  23 

help  himself  to  the  heliotropes,  which  the  child  did, 
casting  up  at  Gideon  a  glance  of  gleeful  triumph. 

"You  can  take  the  responsibility,"  Grid  muttered, 
discomfited  and  surly.  "  The  Melvertons  did  n't 
say  anything  to  me  about  letting  neighbors  come 
in  and  help  themselves  to  things.  I  supposed  I 
was  here  to  prevent  just  that." 

"Suppose  you  are,"  cried  Tracy.  "They  ex- 
pected you  to  use  some  reason  and  decency  in 
guarding  the  premises.  A  good  house-dog  would 
do  that  much." 

"  Now  look  here ! "  broke  forth  young  Ketterell, 
losing  his  temper.  "I  've  heard  enough  of  your 
insults.  Get  off  these  grounds,  or  I  '11  give  you  a 
soaking ;  and  don't  you  ever  set  foot  here  again  as 
long  as  I  am  in  charge." 

"  You  won't  always  be  in  charge,"  Tracy  retorted 
scornfully.  "You  can  give  me  a  soaking  if  you 
think  it 's  wise  to  do  so,  but  you  '11  wish  you  had  n't. 
You  don't  know  the  Melvertons,  and  they  don't 
know  you.  There  '11  be  an  end  of  your  insolence 
to  neighbors  and  meanness  to  little  children  on 
this  place,  soon  as  ever  they  find  you  out." 

And,  taking  Midget  by  the  hand,  he  walked  off 
very  deliberately,  leaving  Gideon  stifled  with  feel- 
ings he  did  n't  deem  it  safe  to  indulge. 


CHAPTER  V 

AT   THE   PARSONAGE 

ESCENDING  into  the  cool  ravine, 
Tracy  caught  the  child  up  in  his 
arms,  and  was  crossing  the  brook 
with  him,  when  he  met  their  mother 
coming  down  the  opposite  slope. 
"  I  heard  high  words,"  she  said,  with  a  look  of 
pain  in  her  gentle  face,  "and  I  am  so  sorry!" 

"I  'm  sorry,  too,"  said  Tracy.  "I  hate  to  get 
into  a  row,  especially  with  a  fellow  like  Gid  Ket- 
terell ;  but  it  was  just  as  Laurie  told  us.  He  was 
picking  a  flower  when  Grid  came  up  behind  and 
showered  him.  I  let  him  understand  that  he  did  n't 
own  quite  all  the  earth." 

At  the  same  time  Midget,  perched  proudly  on 
his  brother's  shoulder,  with  one  little  arm  about 
his  neck,  held  up  in  the  other  hand  his  bunch  of 
heliotropes,  as  if  to  show  that  he  had  come  off 
triumphant. 

With  the  trees  and  shrubs  of  the  brookside  for  a 

24 


AT  THE  PARSONAGE  25 

background,  they  formed  a  picture  that  made  the 
mother  smile,  with  moist  eyes. 

"  Well,  I  hope  it  is  all  over,"  she  said,  "  and  that 
you  won't  go  near  him  again." 

"  I  sha'n't  go  near  him,  be  sure !  But  it  is  n't  all 
over.  The  Melvertons  shall  know  how  he  treated 
Laurie,"  Tracy  declared.  "  The  idea  of  punishing 
him  for  picking  a  flower,  where  he  has  always  been 
as  free  as  the  birds  are,  and  as  welcome ! " 

"  It  is  exasperating,"  said  Mrs.  Lisle,  as  they 
walked  up  toward  the  parsonage.  "Gideon  did  n't 
consider.  But  I  've  no  doubt  he  is  sorry  enough 
now.  Don't,  my  son,  think  for  a  moment  of  re- 
porting him  to  the  Melvertons." 

"He  deserves  it,"  said  Tracy,  scowling  at  the 
recollection  of  the  wrong.  "Why  did  they  ever 
engage  such  a  fellow  to  take  care  of  the  place?" 

"To  encourage  him,  I  suppose,  and  to  help  his 
hard-working  mother.  The  Melvertons  do  a  great 
deal  for  her,  as  they  do  for  everybody  who  needs 
their  help,"  said  Mrs.  Lisle;  "and  no  doubt  they 
thought  it  would  be  wise  to  help  her  in  this  way." 

"It  seems  to  me  like  encouraging  laziness,"  re- 
plied Tracy.  "  Grid  bragged  to  the  boys  the  other 
day  of  his  '  snap ' ;  he  was  to  have  five  dollars  a 
week  just  for  doing — what!  I  'd  like  to  do  all  he 


26  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

does,  and  more,  with,  no  pay  at  all,  merely  as  a  re- 
turn for  what  the  Mel ver tons  are  always  doing  for 
us.  They  might  know  I  would.  What  did  they 
pass  by  me  for,  and  get  a  Ketterell  boy?  —  of  all 
boys  in  this  town ! "  he  exclaimed  indignantly. 

They  had  reached  the  porch  of  the  old  parson- 
age, and  Mrs.  Lisle,  seated  in  a  porch-chair,  was 
waiting  for  the  child  to  bring  a  dry  frock  and  a 
comb  she  had  sent  him  for. 

"  I  'm  afraid  you  are  a  little  jealous,  my  son," 
she  replied.  "If  any  good  can  come  to  one  of 
poor  Mrs.  Ketterell's  family,  you  should  rejoice, 
as  I  do." 

"If  he  would  only  do  something  to  deserve  it, 
and  behave  himself!"  Tracy  murmured,  seating 
himself  on  the  porch  rail.  "  That 's  all.  How  cun- 
ning he  is,  is  n't  he  ?  "  gazing  intently  at  the  child's 
forehead,  as  the  hair  was  combed  smoothly  away 
from  it. 

The  little  hand  was  still  clasping  the  bunch 
of  flowers.  Midget  had  returned  in  a  dry  frock, 
which  his  sister  Ida  had  put  on  him,  and  his 
mother  had  taken  him  on  her  lap. 

"  The  idea  of  anybody  being  harsh  or  mean  with 
him ! "  exclaimed  Tracy.  "  It  makes  me  want  to 
go  right  back  and  give  that  fellow  a  well-deserved 
thrashing ! " 


AT   THE  PARSONAGE  27 

"What  fellow?  How  did  Laurie  get  wet?"  in- 
quired the  sister,  a  girl  of  seventeen,  with  graceful 
ways,  and  a  complexion  like  a  peach,  which  con- 
trasted charmingly  with  her  plain  house-dress. 

She  had  followed  Midget  to  the  porch  to  learn 
the  particulars  of  the  story  he  had  tried  to  tell  her. 
Then  a  man's  voice  was  heard,  and  Mr.  Walworth, 
the  young  minister  who  boarded  at  the  parsonage, 
mounted  the  steps.  He,  too,  must  know  what  had 
happened. 

"Laurie  has  had  a  little  shower-bath;  nothing 
serious,"  Mrs.  Lisle  answered  pleasantly. 

She  was  willing  to  let  the  matter  pass  so.  But 
Tracy,  boy-like,  still  burning  with  indignation, 
poured  forth  his  own  version  of  the  adventure. 

Mr.  Walworth,  a  slender,  quiet  young  man,  stood 
hat  in  hand,  listening  with  interest,  and  watching 
the  combing  of  the  child's  hair,  then  remarked 
dryly,  lifting  his  eyes  to  Ida's: 

"  One  might  do  Gideon  a  more  substantial  favor 
than  to  let  Fred  Melverton  know  of  this." 

"We  won't  let  him  know,"  said  Ida,  a  warm 
color  mounting  to  her  cheeks.  "Midget  is  none 
the  worse  for  his  little  shower-bath.  I  should  be 
ashamed  to  trouble  the  Melvertons  with  so  trifling 
an  affair." 


28  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

"You  are  very  forgiving,"  said  the  young  min- 
ister, with  a  smile  of  admiring  approval;  for  he 
had  noticed  how  indignant  Ida  was  while  listening 
to  the  story. 

"J  Jm  not !  "  said  Tracy,  far  from  pacified.  "  But 
Fred  sha'n't  hear  of  it  from  me.  Only,  Gid  Ketter- 
ell  must  keep  his  hands  and  his  hose-sprinkler  off 
from  our  Laurie  in  future." 

It  was  n't  long  before  Midget  was  playing  about 
the  Melverton  place  again,  without  paying  much 
heed  to  Gideon.  But  Tracy  took  care  not  to  cross 
the  boundary  brook. 


CHAPTER  VI 

"IT  'S   DEAD   AGAINST   THE  KULES." 

tf  the  following  Tuesday  (we  shall 
have  reason  to  remember  the  day), 
Gid  Ketterell  was  fitting  his  key 
to  the  back  door  of  the  Melverton 
house  late  in  the  afternoon,  when 
a  green  apple  came  skipping  along  the  walk  and 
hit  his  foot.  He  turned  suddenly,  and  saw  an  un- 
welcome face  smiling  through  the  shrubbery  above 
the  grassy  bank. 

"  Look  here,  Osk  Ordway,"  he  said,  "  there  's  no 
market  for  green  sass  on  these  premises ! "  And 
he  kicked  the  apple  away. 

"  Oh,  close  your  candy-trap ! "  said  Osk,  good- 
naturedly,  coming  over  the  bank. 

He  was  a  strongly  built  youth,  with  a  bend  in 
his  shoulders  that  threw  his  head  well  forward, 
and  gave  him  an  air  of  peering  curiously  into 
things,  with  a  pair  of  small  keen  eyes,  from  un- 
der prominent  brows.  He  had  a  powerful  neck, 


29 


30  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

a  white  throat,  and  a  short,  curved  nose.  There 
was  a  humorous  quirk  to  his  mouth  and  he  spoke 
with  a  sarcastic  drawl  as  he  came  forward. 

"  You  have  n't  got  the  deed  of  this  property  yet, 
Grid.  The  boys  said  you  seemed  to  think  you  had ; 
but  I  ventured  to  remark  that  you  would  n't  play 
the  Grand  Mogul  with  me." 

"There  's  no  Grand  Mogul  about  it,"  Gid  re- 
plied; "but  I  came  here  on  one  condition,  as  I 
told  'em  —  that  I  was  n't  to  have  any  loafing  about 
the  place." 

"But  that  don't  apply  to  me,  you  know,"  said 
Osk,  laughing. 

"It  applies  to  you  particularly,"  Gid  replied; 
and  the  two  stood  looking  into  each  other's  eyes, 
Gid  with  a  weak  assumption  of  authority,  Osk 
with  amused  insolence. 

"How  have  I  gained  that  honor  —  me  particu- 
larly?" Osk  drawled. 

"Shall  I  tell  you  the  truth?"   Gid  asked. 

"  If  you  have  n't  been  too  long  out  of  practice, 
and  got  rusty,  give  us  a  sample." 

"  Here  it  is,  then !  I  hope  you  '11  like  the  qual- 
ity and  send  in  your  order.  Fred  Melverton  says 
to  me,  he  says,  'You  are  not  to  have  any  loafers 
around,  and  I  warn  you  against  that  Oscar  Ord- 


"IT  >S  DEAD  AGAINST  THE  RULES"  31 

way  particularly.'  I  did  n't  mean  to  tell  you,  and 
hurt  your  feelings,"  Gid  continued,  "but  you  forced 
me  to." 

"Oil,  you  don't  hurt  my  feelings  in  the  least. 
It  's  too  killing !  I  knew  I  should  be  entertained 
if  I  came  to  look  at  you  on  your  throne,  Grid,  but 
I  did  n't  expect  this."  Osk  seemed  choking  with 
laughter.  "Don't  say  another  word,  or  I  shall 
drop  in  my  tracks.  A  good  smart  fly  might  kick 
me  over ! " 

"  I  'm  glad  it  amuses  you,"  said  Gideon,  blush- 
ing very  red. 

"Amuses  me?  Why,  I  'm  thinking  how  it  will 
tickle  the  boys!  I  know  they  '11  ask  why  Fred 
Melverton  did  n't  put  me  in  charge,  and  warn  me 
against  you,  and  I  'm  bothered  if  I  can  tell  'em. 
But  see  here,  Gid ! "  Oscar  became  less  savagely 
ironical.  "  You  and  I  are  too  old  friends  for  this. 
We  've  been  on  too  many  after-dark  watermelon 
raids  and  grape-spoiling  expeditions  together. 
What  are  you  going  to  do  now?" 

Gid  could  bear  anything  better  than  ridicule, 
and  he  was  glad  to  escape  from  Osk's. 

"I  've  got  to  shut  up  the  house,"  he  replied. 
"I  've  had  the  windows  open  to  air  it  off;  now 
I  'm  going  to  fasten  up  and  go  home." 


32  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

"I  thought  you  'd  be  going,  about  this  time; 
hurry  up,  and  I  '11  go  with  you,"  said  Osk. 

UA11  right,"  Grid  replied,  glad  to  get  rid  of  him 
in  that  way,  "  if  you  don't  mind  waiting." 

"  I  'd  sooner  go  in  with  you  than  wait  outside," 
Osk  said,  making  a  motion  to  enter  with  him. 
"I  'd  like  to  see  the  inside  of  this  house;  they 
say  it  's  out  of  sight." 

"  It  is  —  out  of  sight  for  you ! "  Grid  exclaimed, 
trying  to  keep  him  back. 

"Oh,  bosh!"  Osk  said,  forcing  his  way  in. 
"Where  's  the  harm?" 

"If  anybody  knew!"  Grid  faltered  weakly. 

"Anybody  ain't  going  to  know,"  said  Osk.  He 
was  already  inside,  peering  about  with  his  deep- 
set  eyes,  but  taking  care  not  to  betray  too  much 
admiration.  "It  's  all  very  fine,  as  the  toad  said 
of  the  new  garden-rake ;  but  I  'd  just  as  lief  be  in 
my  own  comfortable  hole.  A  man  can't  more  than 
live  if  you  put  him  into  a  gold-and-silver  house," 
he  added  philosophically. 

"It  's  dead  against  the  rules,  letting  you  in 
here ! "  Grid  remonstrated,  irritated  and  anxious. 

"  I  understand  all  that,"  said  Osk,  putting  him 
carelessly  aside.  "By  the  way,  speaking  of  gold 
and  silver,  I  'd  give  more  to  see  that  prize  cup  Fred 


"IT  >S  DEAD  AGAINST   THE  RULES"  33 

won  on  the  Fourth  than  all  these  fine  fixings.    Do 
you  know  where  it  is  ?  " 

"  If  I  do,"  replied  G-ideon,  "  it  won't  do  you  any 
good."  And  he  went  on  closing  windows  and 
blinds,  followed  from  room  to  room  by  his  per- 
sistent companion. 


CHAPTER  VII 


"SHOW  ME  THAT  CUP  ! " 


HIS  is  Fred's  room,  I  '11  bet  ten 
thousand  dollars,  or  half  I  'm 
worth!"  Osk  exclaimed,  as  they 
entered  a  chamber  that  particu- 
larly struck  his  fancy.  "  Does  he 
fence?  or  are  those  foils  crossed  over  the  mantel- 
piece just  for  ornament  1  Now,  say,  Grid," —  with- 
out waiting  for  a  reply  —  "is  it  here?" 

"You  mean  the  cup?  No;  it  is  n't,"  said  Grid- 
eon,  as  he  pulled  down  a  curtain.  "Come  along, 
and  I  '11  show  you  a  den  that  beats  this  —  just  a 
dandy,  you  '11  say  yourself." 

Osk  Ordway,  bending  his  brows  and  peering 
closely  at  everything,  left  the  room  reluctantly. 
Grid  waited  to  close  the  door  after  him,  and  then 
ushered  him  into  a  smaller  chamber  across  the 
entry. 

"  This  is  Frank's,"  said  Gideon,  proudly ;  "  just 


34 


"SHOW  ME  THAT  CUP!"  35 

a  little  tumbled  up,  for  he  left  it  in  a  hurry,  I 
guess,  the  morning  they  went  off,  and  his  mother 
did  n't  have  time  to  follow  him  around.  These 
bronze  horses  take  my  eye  —  and  these  pictures 
of  horses!  Ain't  they  fine?" 

"Y-e-s,"  Osk  drawled,  scrutinizing  everything; 
"nice  knickknacks  in  this  room.  Does  he  use 
the  boxing-gloves  ? " 

"Of  course  he  does,  and  he  '11  box  you  if  you 
don't  keep  your  hands  off!"  Gid  declared,  seeing 
that  Osk  seemed  inclined  to  handle  everything. 

"  What  am  I  hurting  ? "  cried  the  visitor. 
"You  're  a  fussy  kind  of  a  watch-dog.  Don't 
you  know  a  friend  from  a  stranger  1 " 

"  Yes ;  but  I  don't  want  a  thing  moved  out  of 
its  place,"  Gid  replied,  as  he  put  his  head  out  of 
a  window  to  reach  a  blind. 

Osk  laughed  quietly,  and  took  up  with  his 
thumb  and  finger  an  embroidered  silk  handker- 
chief that  lay  in  a  rumpled  heap  on  Frank  Mel- 
verton's  dressing-table.  He  had  no  intention  of 
keeping  it,  but  was  actuated  by  idle  curiosity, 
quickened,  perhaps,  by  a  reckless  determination 
to  do  as  he  pleased  in  spite  of  Gid's  warnings. 

But  the  lifted  handkerchief  exposed  an  object 
that  instantly  and  to  a  violent  degree  excited  his 


36  THE  PEIZE  CUP 

cupidity.  It  was  all  he  could  do  to  keep  from 
grasping  it,  as  he  would  certainly  have  done  if  Grid 
had  n't  at  that  moment  closed  the  blind  with  a 
sharp  click,  and  drawn  in  his  head.  Osk  dropped 
the  handkerchief  again  over  the  glittering  temp- 
tation, and  had  a  few  seconds  to  reflect  upon  what 
he  was  about  to  do  before  Grid  went  to  another 
window. 

When  at  last  Grid  turned  to  his  companion,  he 
found  him  standing  a  little  way  from  the  dressing- 
table,  with  his  hands  behind  him,  in  a  most  inno- 
cent attitude,  puckering  his  brows  in  the  subdued 
light,  and  whistling  softly. 

Grid  noticed,  as  he  led  the  way  through  the  lower 
rooms,  that  his  friend  appeared  strangely  absent- 
minded  by  fits,  and  then  again  unduly  hilarious ; 
and  finally  said  to  him: 

"  "What  's  the  matter  with  you,  Osk,  anyway  ?  " 

Osk  was  ready  with  an  excuse  for  his  moodiness. 

"That  prize  cup,"  he  replied.  "You  said  it 
was  n't  in  Fred's  room ;  now,  where  is  it  I "  They 
had  reached  the  dining-room ;  he  stood  before  Grid- 
eon,  laughing  maliciously.  "  You  don't  get  me  out 
of  this  house  until  you  show  me  that  cup." 

"  I  can't.  I  don't  know  where  it  is,"  said  Gideon, 
defending  himself,  for  Osk  grasped  his  neck  with 


"SHOW  ME  THAT  CUP!"  37 

rough  playfulness.  "  Let  me  alone,  Osk  Ord- 
way ! " 

"You  know  where  it  is  well  enough,"  said  Osk, 
pressing  in  his  thumb  over  Grid's  collar-bone,  with 
a  grim  consciousness  of  his  superior  strength. 
"No  use,  Grid.  I  don't  go  out  of  this  house,  and 
I  don't  let  you  go,  till  I  've  seen  that  prize  cup." 

"  I  '11  scream !  You  hurt ! "  Gid  cried,  trying  in 
vain  to  shake  off  the  ruthless  clutch. 

"I  '11  hurt  more  yet,  and  you  won't  scream 
twice,"  replied  Osk.  He  loosened  his  hold,  how- 
ever. "  See  here,  Grid,  it 's  all  in  fun ! " 

"  Pretty  mean  kind  of  fun,  I  say!"  Grid  muttered 
sulkily  —  "choking  a  fellow  that  way!  Will  you 
go  now?" 

"  No,  I  won't,"  said  Osk.  "  I  'm  in  earnest  about 
that.  Oh,  come  now,  Grid !  Just  give  me  a  peep. 
I  won't  touch  it,  and  I  won't  tell.  I  '11  choke  you 
again ! "  He  laughed,  but  with  a  keen  menace  in 
his  eyes. 

"You  'd  no  business  to  force  yourself  into  the 
house  the  way  you  did,  anyway,"  said  Gideon. 

"  I  made  it  my  business ;  and  here  I  am,"  replied 
Osk,  with  smiling  arrogance.  "  I  generally  have 
my  way  about  things,  don't  I  ?  And  I  stand  by 
the  fellows  that  stand  by  me.  I  don't  care  that 


38  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

for  the  cup," — snapping  his  fingers.  "Only  I  've 
said  I  '11  see  it,  and  I  will." 

Grid  expostulated;  Osk  wheedled,  threatened, 
coaxed.  And  before  long  the  weaker  character 
yielded. 

At  the  end  of  the  dining-room  was  the  hand- 
some sideboard,  with  a  few  pieces  of  china  on 
the  upper  shelf,  and  closed  drawers  beneath.  Grid 
reached  his  hand  under  the  large  shelf,  found  a 
key  somewhere  at  the  back,  and  with  it  unlocked 
the  drawer. 

Osk  uttered  an  exclamation  of  surprise  as  Grid 
opened  the  drawer  and  exposed  the  gold-lined 
silver  prize,  on  a  red  napkin.  He  reached  to  grasp 
it,  but  Grid  held  him  back. 

"  What  you  'fraid  of  ?  I  won't  hurt  it,"  he  said. 
"A  reg'lar  old  glory,  ain't  it?  Open  a  blind,  Grid, 
so  we  can  see  it  better." 

"  Pshaw !  There  's  light  enough,"  said  Grid,  hesi- 
tating, yet  pleased  and  proud  to  be  able  to  excite 
his  friend's  admiration. 

The  room  was  indeed  rather  gloomy.  Over  the 
sideboard  was  a  high  window  of  stained  glass, 
which  subdued  the  light  that  came  through  it  to 
a  deep  crimson  tone.  All  the  other  windows  had 
closed  blinds.  Two,  on  the  side  of  the  piazza, 


"SHOW  ME  THAT  CUP!"  39 

reached  almost  to  the  floor.  Grid  had  just  closed 
one  of  these ;  he  now  raised  the  sash  again,  a  little 
way,  and,  reaching  out,  partly  opened  a  blind,  let- 
ting in  a  streak  of  brighter  light,  by  which  Osk 
reexamined  the  cup. 

"  I  ain't  touching  it,"  he  said,  in  answer  to  Grid's 
remonstrance,  as  he  took  the  prize  up  on  the  nap- 
kin. "  There  's  a  pile  of  silver  in  it,  Grid.  Do  you 
suppose  it 's  solid  ?  " 

"  Of  course  it 's  solid,"  replied  Grid.  "  Fred  Mel- 
verton  would  n't  have  anything  to  do  with  it  if  it 
was  n't." 

"Just  heft  it,"  said  Osk. 

"  I  have,"  said  Gid,  with  a  scared  sort  of  smile. 
"  I  know  just  how  heavy  it  is." 

"He  has  n't  got  his  name  on  it  yet,"  Osk  ob- 
served. "  But  there  's  the  rest  of  the  inscription ; 
so  it  would  have  to  be  melted  up." 

"What  do  you  mean!"  cried  Gideon,  alarmed. 

"  I  was  thinking.  Suppose  somebody  not  quite 
so  honest  as  you  and  I  should  have  the  handling 
of  it!"  Oscar  laughed. 

"  Come,  put  it  back ! "  Grid  whispered  anxiously. 

"That  's  just  what  I  'm  going  to  do;  and  you 
see  your  showing  it  to  me  has  n't  hurt  it  in  the 
least.  But  I  'm  glad  I  've  seen  it,"  said  Osk,  re- 


40  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

placing  the  cup  in  the  drawer,  with  the  napkin 
spread  out  under  it.  "Now,  shall  I  tell  you  the 
fault  I  find  with  that  cup  ? " 

"That  you  did  n't  win  it  yourself,  I  suppose," 
replied  Gideon,  beginning  to  feel  relieved. 

"  That  it  was  n't  made  to  drink  out  of  —  that  's 
its  chief  fault,"  said  Osk,  closing  the  drawer. 
"  That  ain't  my  idea  of  a  cup.  Splendid  as  it  is, 
it  would  n't  make  your  drink  taste  any  better,, 
Makes  me  thirsty,  though,  thinking  of  it.  Grid," 
he  continued,  "  my  throat  is  dry  as  an  ash-barrel. 
There  must  be  something  in  this  house  to  treat 
your  friends  with." 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  that,"  Grid  mut- 
tered. 

"  It 's  time  you  did  know.  Come,  I  '11  help  you 
make  discoveries.  The  expressman  used  to  bring 
out  cases  of  bottled  cider  to  the  Melvertons.  I  bet 
we  can  find  a  pint  or  two  left  over.  I  'm  going  to 
explore  the  cellar." 

"  No,  you  're  not ! "  And,  as  Osk  started  off,  Grid 
hastened  after  him. 

There  was  another  dispute — a  scuffle;  and  again 
the  weaker  character  yielded  to  the  stronger.  We 
will  not  follow  them  to  see  what  they  found  in  the 
lower  regions  of  the  house.  Osk  was  smacking  his 


"SHOW  ME   THAT  CUP!"  41 

lips  and  looking  complacent  when  they  returned  to 
the  dining-room. 

"  Here,  don't  forget  this  key ! "  he  said,  taking  it 
from  the  drawer  and  handing  it  to  Grid. 

"  I  guess  not ! "  Grid  exclaimed,  startled  to  think 
how  near  he  had  come  to  leaving  it  in  the  lock; 
and  he  carefully  returned  it  to  its  place  under  the 
shelf. 

He  looked  around  to  see  that  he  had  left  the 
dining-room  in  good  order,  and  then  accompanied 
Osk  to  the  door  by  which  they  had  entered. 

"  You  must  n't  be  seen  going  out  of  the  house  if 
you  can  help  it,"  he  said ;  "  and  I  must  n't  be  seen 
with  you.  Get  over  into  the  ravine,  and  I  will  fol- 
low, and  maybe  find  you  down  by  the  river." 

"  I  'm  going  to  look  at  that  phcebe's  nest  under 
the  bridge,"  Osk  replied.  "  It 's  time  for  the  birds 
to  be  starting  a  second  brood." 

"  There  are  eggs  in  it  now,"  said  Grid.  "  I  've 
seen  'em.  But  don't  you  touch  one  of  ?em.  Little 
Midget  is  there,  looking  into  the  nest,  every  day, 
and  if  it  's  disturbed  there  '11  be  a  row." 

"Who  's  going  to  disturb  it?"  Osk  replied. 
Leaving  Grid  to  watch  him  from  the  doorway,  he 
retired  over  the  bank,  and  disappeared  in  the 
ravine. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  PHCEBE'S  NEST 

FTER  a  little  delay  Gid  passed  out 
through  the  front  yard,  crossed  the 
street,  stepped  down  over  a  bank- 
wall  near  the  bridge,  and  took  a 
well  trodden  brook-side  path  lead- 
ing to  the  river  —  a  path  frequented  by  fishermen 
and  rambling  boys,  from  immemorial  time. 

On  his  right  was  the  brook,  which  gurgled  over 
its  stones  and  pebbles.  On  his  left,  clumps  of  su- 
macs and  barberries  grew.  Passing  near  a  mass  of 
these,  Grid  shied  suddenly,  like  a  frightened  colt, 
and  stepped  off,  splashing,  into  the  water. 

"  What  are  you  down  there  for  ? "  said  a  mock- 
ing voice  from  the  bushes. 

"  Osk  Ordway ! "  Grid  exclaimed,  scrambling  back 
to  the  path.  "You  scare  a  fellow!  Seeing  your 
head  poked  out  from  the  bushes  that  way, — with- 
out your  hat, — I  did  n't  know  you  from  a  wildcat." 


THE  PHCEBE'S  NEST  43 

"  I  must  have  been  a  pretty  tame  wildcat  to  sit 
still  while  you  passed  near  enough  to  brush  my 
cat's  whiskers,  if  I  had  had  any,"  said  Osk,  peering 
up  at  him  with  his  keen,  curious  eyes.  "  I  Ve  got 
something  to  show  you." 

He  was  sitting  on  a  rock,  with  his  hat  between 
his  knees,  and  his  hands  spread  over  it  with  an  air 
of  mystery. 

Gid  turned  pale.  Ever  since  parting  with  Osk, 
he  had  been  so  troubled  with  misgivings  in  re- 
gard to  his  .own  weak  conduct  in  showing  him 
the  cup,  that  he  was  ready  to  imagine  the  most 
absurd  consequences  of  his  indiscretion.  He  firmly 
believed  that  if  that  daring  and  unscrupulous  youth 
wished  to  get  possession  of  so  much  solid  silver, 
he  would  find  sure  means  of  doing  so,  since  he 
knew  where  it  could  be  obtained.  And  now  for 
an  instant  the  wild  thought  thrilled  him  that, 
before  his  very  eyes  in  the  dining-room,  or  per- 
haps when  his  back  was  turned  for  a  moment, 
Osk  had  by  some  puzzling  feat  got  the  goblet  into 
his  hat,  and  that  he  had  it  there,  covered  with  his 
hands,  in  the  bushes. 

Of  course,  it  was  preposterous.  Osk  was  n't  a 
fool ;  and  if  he  had  succeeded,  by  any  such  hocus- 
pocus,  in  conveying  the  cup  from  the  house,  it  was 


44  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

extremely  improbable  that  he  would  have  sat  there, 
waiting  to  show  it  to  anybody. 

That  was  the  conclusion  Grid  came  to,  after  a 
moment's  reflection.  "  What  is  it  1 "  he  demanded, 
with  fluttering  eagerness. 

And  Osk  smilingly  removed  his  hands.  It  was, 
after  all,  a  relief  to  Gideon  to  see  that  what  they 
had  covered  was  not  the  cup.  Yet  what  he  saw 
roused  his  resentment. 

"Oh,  Osk,"  he  exclaimed,  "how  could  you  do 
that  ?  You  promised  me  you  would  n't ! " 

"No,"  replied  Osk,  coolly;  "I  said,  'Who  is  go- 
ing to  disturb  it  ? '  I  put  the  question.  I  did  n't 
answer  it ;  if  I  had,  I  should  have  said  I  was  going 
to.  'Who  killed  Cock  Robin?  I,  said  the  spar- 
row, with  my  bow  and  arrow,  I  killed  Cock  Robin.' 
Ain't  it  a  daisy  1 " 

"Yes  —  but — "  Grid  bent  over  the  hat  with  looks 
of  mingled  envy  and  admiration,  pity  and  reproach. 
"Why  did  you,  Osk?" 

What  he  saw  was  something  more  wonderful, 
rightly  considered,  than  any  gold  or  silver  goblet 
the  hand  of  man  ever  wrought.  It  was  a  nest  of 
the  common  pewee,  or  phcebe-bird,  containing 
three  of  those  delicate,  white-walled,  orbic  cells  of 
life  whose  mystery  the  utmost  ingenuity  of  man 


THE  PHCEBE'S  NEST  45 

cannot  even  comprehend ;  each  a  miniature  world 
in  itself,  a  pearly  drop  of  beauty  inclosing  a  new 
creation,  possibilities  of  life  and  joy,  of  song  and 
wings  —  little  marvels  we  call  eggs ! 

Did  you  ever  see  a  phcebe's  nest  1  I  will  try  to 
describe  to  you  this  one. 

It  is  not  at  all  a  thing  of  the  imagination,  but 
an  actual  nest  that  I  have  just  taken  from  a  case 
where  it  is  kept,  and  placed  upon  the  table  before 
me,  where  I  write. 

It  was  first  shown  to  me  by  the  little  deaf-mute 
himself,  when  I  was  visiting  at  the  parsonage  that 
summer;  for  it  was  Midget's  delight  to  lead  his 
friends,  young  or  old,  down  the  brookside  to  the 
bridge,  and  let  them  take  one  peep  at  the  small 
tower-shaped  structure  under  it,  built  against  a 
beam,  over  the  abutting  wall.  There,  in  the  cool 
cavern-like  gloom,  the  phosbes  had  fixed  their 
home,  undismayed  by  the  hoofs  and  wheels  of  the 
highway,  clattering  and  thundering  close  above 
their  heads.  A  single  egg  was  in  the  nest  when 
I  saw  it  dimly —  undoubtedly  one  of  the  three  Osk 
afterward  carried  away. 

Midget  would  allow  me  to  take  only  one  little 
peep,  for  fear  of  worrying  the  parent  birds;  though 
they  knew  him  so  well  as  their  small  friend  that 


46  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

they  did  n't  appear  to  be  much  afraid.  I  can  look 
at  the  nest  all  I  wish  to  now. 

The  whole  structure  is  a  little  more  than  three 
inches  high,  and  four  or  five  inches  across  from 
side  to  side;  flat  at  the  back,  where  it  was  plas- 
tered with  dabs  of  mud  to  the  beam,  and  flat  also 
on  the  bottom,  where  it  rested  on  the  abutment 
wall.  It  is  made  of  moss,  hair,  fine  stems  of  grass, 
and  twigs  or  roots  almost  as  fine,  with  here  and 
there  a  bit  of  string  or  fleck  of  wool,  all  woven 
together  in  a  fine  and  compact  mass,  with  a  cup- 
shaped  hollow  at  the  top.  This  hollow  is  the  nest 
proper,  measuring  about  three  inches  across,  and 
softly  lined  with  the  fibers  and  down  of  plants. 
When  Midget  climbed  up  on  the  stones  to  point  it 
out  to  me,  it  looked  like  a  bunch  of  moss  growing 
on  the  side  of  the  timber,  the  moss  still  green  with 
the  dampness  of  the  place.  But  the  moss  is  now 
faded,  and  the  nest  shows  signs  of  rough  treatment. 

In  this  nest  there  were,  when  Osk  carried  it  off, 
three  eggs,  as  I  have  said ;  they  were  of  a  delicate 
creamy  tint,  with  a  few  scattered  reddish  spots, 
chiefly  about  the  larger  end.  These  markings  were 
unusually  pretty,  as  Grid  noticed.  Kneeling  down 
and  looking  into  Osk's  hat,  he  again  exclaimed : 

"  What  made  you  do  it  I     Say ! " 


THE  PHCEBE'S  NEST  47 

"  I  am  going  to  start  a  collection,"  Osk  replied. 

"Your  collection  never  '11  amount  to  anything; 
none  of  the  boys'  collections  ever  do,"  said  Grid. 
"They  get  tired  of  seeing  the  nests  knocking 
around ;  some  of  the  shells  get  broken ;  then  they 
kick  the  rubbish  outdoors,  or  their  mothers  do. 
See  here,  Osk,  take  it  back  to  the  bridge,  won't 
you  ? " 

"  What  '11  I  take  it  back  to  the  bridge  for,  after 
I  've  been  to  the  trouble  of  bringing  it  away?" 
Osk  retorted.  "  I  thought  the  old  birds  would  pick 
my  eyes  out.  Did  n't  they  make  a  fuss  and  flirt 
their  tails!" 

"  Oh,  take  it  back,  Osk,  before  it  is  missed ! "  Grid 
pleaded,  moved  partly  by  compassion,  but  quite  as 
much  by  his  fear  of  disagreeable  consequences  to 
himself.  "  It  won't  be  long  before  Midget  will  no- 
tice the  trouble  with  the  birds,  and  find  out  what 
has  happened.  There  '11  be  an  inquiry,  and  I  'm 
afraid  I  '11  be  brought  into  it.  You  know  the  law 
on  birds  and  nests." 

"  Bah  !  "  said  Osk,  contemptuously.  "  Why, 
the  fellows  around  here  are  always  getting  birds 
and  nests,  and  we  never  hear  of  one  being  com- 
plained of." 

"We  never  have  yet,  but  it  's  going  to  be  dif- 


48  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

f erent  now,"  G-id  replied.  "  I  don't  dare  to  be  seen 
here  with  you." 

He  looked  anxiously  up  and  down  the  brook  and 
over  the  tops  of  the  bushes  to  see  if  anybody  was 
in  sight.  Osk  demanded  what  he  meant. 

"  Fred  Melverton  and  four  or  five  others  have 
agreed  together  that  this  robbing  nests  and  killing 
birds  must  be  stopped;  so  Fred  himself  told  me. 
They  're  going  to  see  that  the  first  one  caught  do- 
ing it  is  prosecuted.  There  's  a  ten-dollar  fine, 
you  know." 

"But  how  am  I  going  to  be  found  out  or  com- 
plained of  ?  "  Osk  replied.  "  Nobody  saw  me ;  no- 
body '11  know  it  but  you ;  and  you  ain't  going  back 
on  a  friend,  Grid.  'T  will  be  all  your  neck  's  worth, 
if  you  do." 

" No,"  said  Grid ;  "I  sha'n't  give  you  away.  But 
I  know  Fred  is  in  earnest ;  and  his  folks  and  the 
Lisles  thought  everything  of  this  nest.  I  know  I 
shall  be  hauled  up  and  questioned." 

"  Confound  it,  yes  !  "  Osk  exclaimed.  "  And 
you  're  one  of  the  kind  they  can  worm  anything 
out  of,  whether  you  want  them  to  or  not.  Why 
did  n't  you  let  on  about  this  agreement  when  I  told 
you  at  the  door  I  was  going  for  the  nest  ?  " 

"  I  had  no  idea  you  would  take  it ;  you  said  as 


THE  PHGEBE'S  NEST  49 

much.  You  won't  dare  to  start  a  collection;  there  '11 
be  no  fun  in  it  if  you  can't  show  it;  and  if  you 
show  it  you  '11  get  found  out,  sure." 

"I  don't  know  what  I  touched  the  thing  for," 
said  Osk,  looking  down  with  disgust  at  the  con- 
tents of  his  hat.  "Here,  you  may  take  it  back 
to  the  bridge  ! " 

"I  don't  dare  touch  it!"  Grid  exclaimed,  recoil- 
ing with  affright. 

"  Then  I  suppose  I  must,"  said  Osk ;  "  though  I 
don't  see  how  I  am  going  to  make  it  stay  in  place. 
It  won't  rest  on  the  stone  unless  it 's  made  fast  to 
the  string-piece." 

"  Can't  you  stick  it  on  with  something  ?  "  Grid  in- 
quired. 

"  I  don't  know.  I  can  set  it  on  the  stone  ;  then 
if  it  tumbles  off  it  will  look  as  if  it  was  an  acci- 
dent. I  '11  manage  somehow.  And  see  here,  Gid!" 
Osk  laughed  recklessly,  ashamed  of  having  be- 
trayed such  weakness ;  "  if  you  tell  on  me  —  you 
understand ! " 

Grid  promised  solemnly.  "I  must  go  now,"  he 
said,  and  hurried  away. 


CHAPTER  IX 


THE  TWO  BICYCLE-RIDERS 


IDEON  did  not  see  Osk  again  for 
two  or  three  days,  and  he  did  not 
venture  to  look  under  the  bridge 
to  learn  the  fate  of  the  phoebe's 
nest.  He  was  only  too  thankful 
that  Osk  kept  away  from  him,  and  he  endeavored 
to  forget  the  incidents  of  that  single,  compromis- 
ing visit  by  giving  stricter  attention  to  his  duties. 
One  morning,  three  days  after  that  memorable 
Tuesday,  he  was  running  a  light  lawn-mower  in 
front  of  the  house,  when  two  young  men  in  trim 
bicycle  suits,  mounted  on  handsome  wheels,  whirled 
rapidly  into  the  driveway,  and  dismounted  at  the 
piazza  steps. 

Grid  stopped  to  lift  his  hat  as  they  went  hum- 
ming past  him,  muttering  to  himself,  "  I  'm  awful 
glad  he  happened  to  ketch  me  at  work ! "  while  his 
guilty  breast  swelled  with  anxious  apprehensions. 


80 


THE  TWO  BICYCLE-RIDERS  51 

The  two  riders  turned  their  machines  over  on 
the  turf ;  and  when  they  stood  erect,  side  by  side, 
you  could  see  that  one  was  a  full  head  taller  than 
the  other.  The  taller  one  was  Fred  Melverton. 
He  wore  his  dark  gray  cap  and  suit,  while  his 
friend,  a  stranger  to  Grid,  was  clad  in  a  suit  of 
lighter  gray. 

The  friend  was  no  such  young  Apollo  as  Fred 
appeared.  His  shorter  limbs,  however,  showed  a 
rugged  strength ;  he  had  a  sandy  complexion,  and 
an  expression  full  of  a  certain  bright  mirthfulness, 
which  gave  a  peculiar  allurement  to  features  other- 
wise rather  plain.  Do  you  see  him  in  your  mind's 
eye,  laughingly  lifting  his  cap  to  pass  a  handker- 
chief over  his  face,  showing  a  white  forehead, 
crowned  by  carelessly  tossed  locks  of  deep-red 
hair?  Then  let  me  introduce  him:  Mr.  Canton 
Quimby,  of  Yale. 

"  Canton "  is  an  odd  name  for  a  boy,  you  think. 
I  remember  once  hearing  him  tell  how  he  came  by 
it.  His  father,  during  the  early  years  of  his  mar- 
ried life,  served  his  country  abroad  in  various  ca- 
pacities, and  his  mother  had  named  her  children 
after  the  places  in  which  they  happened  to  be 
born.  So  the  oldest  girl  was  called  Florence — a 
very  pretty  name.  The  second  child  (also  a  girl) 


52  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

saw  the  light  when  the  father  was  secretary  of 
legation  at  Vienna.  The  parents  hesitated  a  little 
at  the  name;  but  Mrs.  Quimby  saw  no  good  reason 
for  objecting  to  it,  and  "  Vienna "  Quimby  grew 
up  so  charming  a  girl  that  everybody  wondered 
why  no  girl  had  ever  been  so  christened  before. 
"Then  my  father  was  sent  to  Constantinople, 
and  there  my  eldest  brother  was  born.  Constan- 
tinople was  a  poser  !  My  father  would  n't  hear  of 
it,  and  my  mother  was  staggered.  But  they  finally 
compromised  on  Constant,  which  is  a  very  good 
name  for  a  good  fellow.  You  will  readily  under- 
stand that  I  was  born  in  Canton, — not  quite  so 
good  a  name,  but  good  enough  for  the  bearer.  So 
far,"  young  Quimby  rattled  merrily  on,  "the  rule 
had  worked  very  well,  and  my  mother  was  trium- 
phant. She  has  always  been  exceedingly  tenacious 
of  her  ideas ;  but  when  she  had  two  children  born, 
one  in  Copenhagen  and  one  in  Amsterdam,  she  ac- 
knowledged that  the  fates  were  against  her.  They 
are  called  Capen  and  Amy  —  quite  a  breakdown, 
you  see,  of  her  scheme.  She  could  n't  forgive  the 
government  for  not  sending  nay  father  to  Paris, 
and  afterward  giving  him  the  consul-generalship 
at  Rome,  when  he  asked  for  it ;  for  i  Paris '  and 
'Roma'  would  have  been  very  good  names;  and 


THE  TWO  BICYCLE-EIDERS  53 

a  little  obligingness  on  the  part  of  each  adminis- 
tration would  have  saved  her  system.  But  admin- 
istrations don't  always  consider!"  he  concluded, 
with  a  laugh. 

But  we  are  rambling  from  our  story,  which  has 
nothing  to  do  with  the  Quimby  family,  except  that 
vivacious  member  of  it,  the  Yale  junior,  who  passed 
his  babyhood  and  got  his  name  in  China. 

Grid  Ketterell,  seeing  the  young  master  beckon 
to  him,  left  his  lawn-mower  and  hastened  toward 
the  house. 

"  How  are  you  getting  along,  Gideon  ?  "  Fred  in- 
quired. 

"All  right,  I  guess,"  Gid  replied. 

"Any  callers  since  we  7ve  been  away  ?  " 

"  Not  when  I  Ve  been  here ;  I  guess  about  every- 
body knows  the  house  is  shut  up." 

"  Have  you  kept  it  well  aired  1 " 

"I  've  had  some  of  the  windows  open  four  or 
five  hours  every  good  day." 

"Are  they  open  this  morning?" 

"  No ;  it  seemed  so  cool  this  morning,"  Gid  said, 
growing  more  and  more  confident  as  he  found 
himself  able  to  answer  these  simple  questions,  as 
he  believed,  satisfactorily. 

"  So  cool  I "  Fred  Melverton  smiled,  but  not  al- 


54  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

together  in  approval  of  Grid's  judgment.  "  It  is 
cool,  and  that  is  all  the  better  for  airing  the  house, 
as  I  thought  I  explained  to  you.  A  simple  fact " — 
addressing  his  companion,  without  noticing  Gid's 
blank  face  —  "  which  it  is  very  hard  for  some  peo- 
ple to  comprehend.  A  warm  south  wind  let  into  a 
cool  house,  especially  into  a  cellar,  will  often  de- 
posit more  moisture  than  it  takes  away.  The  cold 
walls  condense  it;  and  the  owners,  who  choose 
such  days  for  ventilation  on  the  theory  that  warm 
air  must  always  be  a  drying  air,  wonder  why  their 
houses  continue  damp,  and  why  the  hard-wood 
floors  hump,  in  summer  weather." 

The  young  man  again  addressed  Gideon,  who 
stood  staring  rather  stupidly. 

"  Don't  you  remember,  I  cautioned  you  against 
opening  the  windows  in  muggy  weather,  even  if 
the  sun  should  be  shining?  But  a  cool  dry  air, 
like  this  to-day, — wind  northwest, —  admitted  once 
or  twice  a  week,  will  keep  even  a  cellar  in  good 
condition.  I  tried  to  make  the  reason  clear  to 
you :  that  ordinary  warm  air  let  into  a  cool  apart- 
ment shrinks,  and,  like  a  moist  sponge  when  you 
squeeze  it,  tends  to  part  with  its  humidity ;  while 
a  cool  current,  passing  through  a  warm  space, 
expands,  and  tends  to  suck  up  any  particles  of 
moisture  that  come  in  its  way." 


THE  TWO  BICYCLE-EIDERS  55 

"  But  you  said  it  might  be  necessary  to  have  a 
fire  in  the  furnace,  just  to  dry  off  the  house  —  and 
that  makes  hot  air,"  Grid  murmured  confusedly. 

For  a  moment  Fred  Melverton  appeared  slightly 
discomfited.  The  young  man  who  was  named  for 
a  Chinese  city  looked  as  if  he  enjoyed  Grid's  an- 
swer, as  he  did  everything  that  could  be  turned 
into  a  joke. 

"  Your  philosophy  has  got  a  poke  under  the 
fifth  rib,  Melf !  —  if  philosophy  can  be  said  to 
have  a  fifth  rib,"  he  remarked  dryly,  while  his 
eyes  danced  with  suppressed  fun. 

A  hopeful  smile  dawned,  struggled,  and  finally 
spread  all  over  Grid's  face,  as  for  a  moment  he  was 
made  to  imagine  that  he  had  really  advanced  an 
argument  that  had  perhaps  floored  a  Melverton. 

But  Fred  was  not  entirely  prostrate,  as  Canton 
Quimby  was  pleased  to  observe ;  he  was  pausing 
to  think  how  he  should  shape  an  explanation  that 
would  enter  even  the  dullest  comprehension.  Not 
so  complimentary  to  Grid's  wit  as  Grid  supposed. 

"  You  say  I  spoke  of  a  furnace  fire.  I  did ;  and 
I  said  I  would  send  word  to  you  if  I  thought  it 
necessary  to  build  one.  Now,  what  does  a  furnace 
fire  do?  It  takes  the  air  from  out-of-doors,  even 
humid  air,  and  expands  it  so  that  it  becomes  a 
volume  of  comparatively  dry  air  when  it  is  poured 


56  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

through  the  registers.  Then  all  the  air  in  the 
house  that  is  n't  driven  out  by  it  warms  and  ex- 
pands also,  and  becomes  thirsty  to  absorb  mois- 
ture. Do  I  make  myself  understood?" 

Seeing  the  blank  expression  come  again  into 
Grid's  face,  Fred  Melverton  turned  once  more  to 
his  friend. 

"A  little  common  sense  is  a  good  thing  to  use 
on  occasions ! "  he  remarked,  with  an  air  that  im- 
plied a  conscious  possession  on  his  part  of  more 
than  an  average  share  of  the  quality  in  question. 

"I  '11  go  in  now  and  open  the  windows,"  Gid 
volunteered. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Fred ;  "  I  am  going  to  take 
my  friend  in,  and  I  will  attend  to  them.  Come, 
Quimby ! "  producing  a  key  from  his  pocket,  turn- 
ing it  in  the  lock,  and  throwing  the  broad  front 
door  wide  open. 

Grid  was  n't  greatly  disturbed  by  the  little  lec- 
ture upon  ventilation,  any  uneasiness  that  might 
have  been  caused  by  Fred's  faultfinding  being  lost 
in  a  deeper  anxiety.  With  a  scared  smile  he 
watched  the  two  young  men  as  they  passed  on 
into  the  house,  and  then  he  returned  slowly  to  his 
lawn-mower. 


CHAPTER  X 

"STRANGE  THINGS  HAPPEN  IN  THIS  HOUSE!" 


H,  I  like  hard- wood  floors ! "  said 
Canton  Quirnby,  as  he  was  ushered 
into  the  ample  hallway  of  the  Mel- 
verton  mansion.  "And  these  are 
fine  ones ! " 

"  If  there 's  anything  my  mother  particularly 
prides  herself  upon,"  Fred  Melverton  replied,  "  it 
is  her  oak  floors.  They  're  neat,  but  they  require 
a  vast  deal  of  attention.  They  must  be  skilfully 
laid,  and  scraped,  and  dressed,  in  the  first  place. 
Then  they  have  to  be  kept  waxed,  polished,  and 
dusted  —  every  hair  or  speck  of  lint  shows;  but 
all  that  is  very  well.  The  great  trouble  is  that 
they  shrink,  and  the  seams  open,  when  you  have 
hot  furnace  fires  in  winter;  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  they  swell  and  bulge  if  the  house  gathers 
dampness  in  summer.  Hence  the  need  of  care- 
ful management  of  your  fires,  and  of  a  rational 


58  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

system  of  ventilation.  I  explained  everything  to 
that  boy  the  first  day  he  was  here,  and  you  see 
the  result." 

"We  must  n't  expect  too  much  of  the  average 
human  biped's  intelligence,"  said  Quimby,  as  the 
two  passed  on  into  the  dining-room.  "What  a 
floor  for  a  roller-skating  rink ! "  he  exclaimed, 
laughing. 

"My  mother  would  be  horrified  if  she  should 
hear  you  say  that,"  replied  his  friend.  "  Sit  down, 
old  fellow,  and  I  '11  see  if  I  can  scare  up  a  little  re- 
freshment. I  think  it  will  be  acceptable  after  our 
eighteen-mile  run,  and  with  another  eighteen  miles 
before  us." 

He  started  to  open  a  window  on  the  side  of  the 
piazza. 

"  Look  at  that ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  This  sash 
is  n't  fastened.  Nothing  to  prevent  a  person  out- 
side from  pushing  it  up  and  walking  right  in! 
Pretty  careless,  I  say,  if  it  's  true  that  boy  has  n't 
been  in  and  unfastened  it  this  morning.  I  rather 
think  it  's  a  good  thing  I  took  a  run  up  here  to 
look  after  matters." 

"It  's  a  magnif  old  dining-room!"  Canton 
Quimby  remarked,  casting  an  admiring  eye  over 
the  walls  and  ceiling.  Then,  seating  himself  with 


"  STRANGE  THINGS  HAPPEN  IN  THIS  HOUSE  \"     59 

a  smile  of  content  near  the  table  of  polished  an- 
tique oak,  he  went  on  to  praise  the  stained  glass 
over  the  sideboard,  the  fireplace,  and  the  carved 
mantel,  in  a  way  that  made  his  friend  pause  and 
regard  him  with  quiet  satisfaction. 

"  Say  all  that  to  my  mother  if  you  wish  to  please 
her.  This  dining-room  is  her  favorite  room.  Now 
sit  and  admire  it,  while  I  see  what  I  can  find.  I 
can't  promise  much.  I  forewarn  you  that  we  've 
come  to  a  poverty-stricken  house." 

"  i  Beggars  all,  beggars  all,  Sir  John ! ' "  quoted 
his  friend,  with  a  laugh. 

"  You  '11  find,  to  your  sorrow,  there  's  more  truth 
in  that,  in  our  case,  than  there  was  in  Master  Shal- 
low's," replied  Fred. 

From  an  adjoining  china-closet  he  brought  out 
a  dish  of  crackers  and  a  jar  of  olives  that  had  been 
left  behind  by  the  family  in  its  flight  ;  and  putting 
a  plate  before  his  friend,  bade  him  "  nibble"  while 
he  went  in  search  of  something  "moist";  at  the 
same  time  winking  suggestively,  and  making  with 
his  mouth  a  sound  as  of  a  popping  cork. 

"  I  'm  glad  I  came,"  said  Quimby,  winking  in  re- 
turn, and  proceeding  to  harpoon  an  olive  with  the 
long-handled  jar-fork.  "  Do  you  know,"  he  called 
after  Fred,  who  was  departing  for  the  cellar,  "  in 


60  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

the  six  months  we  spent  in  Italy  and  France,  we 
never  saw  such  olives  as  these?" 

"That  's  another  observation  that  will  please  my 
worthy  mama,"  Fred  replied,  pausing  with  his 
hand  on  the  door-knob.  "  But  that  may  not  be 
saying  very  much ;  one  never  seems  to  see  any 
first-class  olives  in  Italy."  He  went  off  in  high 
spirits,  was  gone  an  "unconscionable  while,"  his 
friend  thought,  and  finally  returned  with  a  frown 
on  his  brow,  and  a  solitary  pint  bottle  in  his  hand. 
"  You  '11  think  I  'm  a  jolly  fraud ! "  he  declared. 
"I  could  have  sworn  there  were  at  least  three  or 
four  bottles  of  cider  in  the  case.  But  the  bottles 
of  cider  have  been  reduced  to  mere  cider-bottles  — 
all  empty  but  this  !  " 

"  Well,  that  will  be  empty  pretty  soon ;  so  don't 
worry,"  the  guest  replied  gaily. 

"But  I  'm  astonished — I  'm  mortified!"  Fred 
exclaimed.  "It  's  like  the  fox  inviting  the  crane 
to  supper — though  in  this  instance  the  fox  is  as 
badly  off  as  the  crane." 

"  You  don't  imagine  that  lubber  outside  —  1 " 
Quimby  suggested.  "I  noticed  he  smole  a  smile, 
when  he  saw  us  coming  in,  not  quite  healthy;  like 
a  smile  raised  under  glass — rather  forced;  not  the 
smile  of  an  easy-conscienced  lubber." 


"  STRANGE  THINGS  HAPPEN  IN  THIS  HOUSE!"      61 

"I  did  n't  notice  it."  Fred  opened  the  bottle, 
darkly  musing.  "  I  '11  have  him  in  here,  and  start 
an  inquisition." 

"  There,  there  !  Hold  your  horses ! "  cried  the 
guest,  as  Melverton  was  filling  his  glass.  "Don't 
give  me  more  than  my  share,  or  I  '11  swap  glasses 
with  you.  Good  sparkle,  hey  ?  I  'm  glad  he  had 
the  considerashe  to  leave  us  even  one  bottle ! " 

"  I  really  can't  think  he  has  taken  any,"  Fred  re- 
marked, seating  himself  opposite  his  friend.  "  He 
is  n't  that  kind  of  a  boy." 

"There  are  always  fewer  bottles  in  a  case  than 
you  think  there  are,"  the  red-haired  one  suggested, 
as  he  nibbled  and  sipped.  "To  be  quite  confidensh 
with  you,  Melf,  your  little  lunch  is  n't  half  bad! 
It  goes  to  the  right  spot  —  if  I  've  got  a  right  spot, 
and  know  where  to  locate  it.  The  cider  's  splendif ; 
just  the  right  age.  And  enough  of  it.  I  never 
take  anything  stronger.  I  'm  a  tee-tote,  myself." 

"  So  am  I,"  said  Fred;  "though  I  think  we  might 
stand  another  bottle,  without  breaking  a  pledge. 
Now," — he  put  a  fragment  of  cracker  into  his 
mouth,  and  rose,  leaving  his  glass  unfinished, — 
"  I  've  told  you  what  my  mother  is  proud  of ;  what 
I  'm  proud  of  is  here." 

"  Oh,  your  prize !     I  had  n't  forgotten  that,"  re- 


62  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

plied  the  guest,  that  being,  indeed,  one  thing  he 
had  made  the  morning's  ride  to  see. 

Melverton  turned  to  the  sideboard,  reached  un- 
der the  shelf,  found  the  key,  fitted  it  in  the  lock, 
and  uttered  an  exclamation.  The  key  would  n't 
turn! 

"But  it  turns  the  other  way,"  he  said  immedi- 
ately. "  Do  you  see  ? — the  drawer  was  n't  locked ! 
Strange  things  happen  in  this  house,  in  our 
absence ! " 

So  saying,  he  pulled  the  drawer  open,  and  then 
stood  looking  down  into  it  with  dumb  amazement. 

"  What  's  the  troub'  1 "  cried  the  guest,  also  ris- 
ing from  the  table,  with  an  olive  in  his  fingers. 

"  The  cup ! "  ejaculated  the  dazed  young  man, 
pulling  the  drawer  well  out,  and  staring  into  it. 
"The  cup  is  gone!" 

"With  hurry  and  trepidation  Fred  opened  in  turn 
all  the  drawers,  then  backed  away  from  the  side- 
board, regarding  it  with  brows  contracted  and  lips 
compressed,  in  utter  amazement  and  incredulity. 

Then  he  turned  to  his  companion. 

"  You  '11  think  I  'm  a  bigger  fraud  than  ever ! " 
he  exclaimed.  "  But,  by  George !  wherever  it  's 
gone,  there  was  a  cup ! " 


o 


CHAPTER  XI 
"WHERE  ?s  THAT  CUP?" 

T  was  ten  minutes  after  this  that  the 
winner  of  the  prize  cup  stepped  out 
from  the  open  door,  put  up  a  beckon- 
ing hand,  and  called  in  a  very  gentle 
voice,  as  if  he  had  been  addressing 
the  most  innocent  of  the  Babes  in  the  Wood : 
"  Gideon,  if  you  please  !    Here,  a  minute ! n 
There  was  nothing  in  his  look  or  tone  to  indi- 
cate the  slightest  inquietude  of  mind ;  so  that  Grid 
experienced  a  sense  of  relief  to  his  ever-growing 
apprehensions. 

Fred  had  had  time  to  discuss  the  situation  with 
his  friend,  and  to  prepare  for  a  calm,  judicial  in- 
quiry. As  he  stepped  back  into  the  house,  Gid 
followed,  with  a  countenance  almost  too  open  and 
candid.  It  was,  however,  startled  a  little  out  of 
its  childlike  innocence  of  expression  by  the  aspect 
of  the  solitary  bottle  on  the  table. 


66  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

"The  house  seems  to  be  in  pretty  good  condi- 
tion," Melverton  remarked,  standing  with  his  hand 
on  the  back  of  his  friend's  chair;  Quimby  mean- 
while playing  with  his  empty  glass,  and  smiling 
upon  Gideon. 

"  I  'm  glad  you  find  it  so,"  said  Gideon,  grate- 
fully. 

"  After  we  are  gone,"  Fred  proceeded,  "  you  can 
take  the  empty  bottle  to  the  cellar.  You  know 
where  the  case  is?" 

Gid  gave  a  little  gasp,  but  answered  promptly, 
"I  guess  I  can  find  it." 

He  felt  the  eyes  of  both  young  men  upon  him, 
and  his  face,  which  was  slightly  pale  at  first,  be- 
gan to  flush. 

"  When  were  you  in  the  house  last  ? "  inquired 
the  young  proprietor. 

"When  I  shut  it  up  yesterday  afternoon." 

"Oh!  I  remember!  You  had  n't  opened  the 
windows  to-day." 

"  No,"  said  Gid ;  "  I  was  just  going  to,  when  you 
came." 

"  You  had  n't  been  in  the  house,  then,  since  yes- 
terday ?  " 

The  inquiries  were  taking  a  direction  that  did  n't 
seem  at  all  alarming ;  yet  Gid  felt  that  he  was  on 


"WHERE  >S  THAT  CUP?"  67 

the  brink  of  some  danger.  As  he  really  had  not 
been  in  the  house  since  the  day  before,  he  thought 
he  might  as  well  stick  to  the  truth — and  stuck  to  it. 

"How  happens  it,  then,  that  this  window  was 
unclasped  ?  " 

"Was  it?"  Grid  exclaimed,  in  genuine  surprise. 

"I  found  it  so,"  Fred  Melverton  replied.  "Any 
rogue  could  have  got  in." 

Gid  looked  hot  and  troubled.  But  he  said 
earnestly : 

"I  don't  know  how  it  happened.  I  thought  I 
clasped  it.  I  can't  understand!" 

He  began  to  tremble,  remembering  that  he  had 
not  opened  that  window  since  the  afternoon  when 
he  left  the  room  in  such  haste  to  follow  Osk  Ord- 
way  to  the  cellar.  He  had,  indeed,  avoided  that 
part  of  the  house  ever  since,  on  account  of  the 
disagreeable  associations  his  conscience  connected 
with  it. 

"When  did  you  have  it  open  last?"  Fred  in- 
quired. 

"I — can't  remember,"  Grid  replied,  fearful  of 
committing  himself. 

"You  have  n't  had  any  of  your  friends  in  the 
house  since  you  have  been  in  charge  ?  "  Fred  smil- 
ingly queried. 


68  THE  PEIZE  CUP 

For  a  moment  Grid  felt  the  dreadful  necessity  of 
telling  the  simple  truth,  and  gaining  some  sort  of 
foothold  in  the  mire  of  deception  in  which  he  felt 
himself  sinking.  But  the  spirit  of  Osk  Ordway 
seemed  to  control  him,  and  he  answered  stoutly: 

"No;  of  course  not." 

"And — you  said  you  guessed  you  could  find 
the  case  of  cider-bottles; — you  had  n't  found  it 
already  ? " 

And  Gid  repeated,  even  more  emphatically,  "No; 
of  course  not." 

He  had  drunk  but  little  of  the  two  bottles  he 
had  permitted  Osk  to  open;  and  Osk  had  per- 
suaded him  that  the  Melvertons  were  not  a  family 
that  counted  their  bottles  very  closely.  Still  he 
had  been  troubled  with  a  dread  of  these  questions, 
and  he  had  made  up  his  mind  beforehand  how  he 
would  answer  then.  A  good,  rousing  falsehood, 
he  hoped,  would  carry  him  through  his  present 
difficulties. 

"  I  did  n't  suppose  you  would,"  said  the  young 
man,  pleasantly.  "  Don't  consider  me  too  inquisi- 
tive, but  I  would  like  to  ask  —  who  unlocked  this 
drawer  ?  " 

Gid  was  stunned  for  a  moment.  Seeing  the 
drawer  closed,  and  the  key  in  it,  and  being  sure 


" WHERE  'S  THAT  CUP?"  69 

he  had  not  left  it  so,  he  wondered  how  Fred  could 
have  found  out  that  it  had  been  unlocked. 

"That  drawer!"  he  said,  with  growing  agitation. 
"  Unlocked  ?  I  don't  know  anything  about  it ! " 

"  Did  you  know  what  was  in  it  ?  "  Fred  asked. 

"Y  —  yes,"  Gid  faltered.  "I  thought  you  put 
your  prize  cup  in  it  the  day  you  left  me  in  charge." 

"  You  saw  that,  did  you  ?  "  Fred  queried,  look- 
ing sharply  at  him. 

Gid  was  afraid  he  was  admitting  too  much ;  but 
he  answered: 

"  I  could  n't  help  seeing  you  put  the  cup  in  the 
drawer.  I  happened  to  look  back  just  as  I  was 
leaving  the  room,  that  day  you  left  for  the  sea- 
shore." 

"There  is  no  mistake,  then,  about  my  locking 
the  cup  in  the  drawer  !  I  was  beginning  to  think 
there  might  be,"  Fred  remarked,  so  unsuspiciously 
and  quietly  that  Gid  was  quite  sure  he  had  ad- 
mitted too  much. 

"  I  ain't  quite  positive,"  he  said.  "  I  thought  you 
put  it  in  one  of  the  drawers." 

The  questioner  did  not  seem  to  notice  this  quali- 
fication, but  added : 

"And  you  've  been  the  only  one  in  the  house 
since  ?  " 


70  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

"  Fur  as  I  know,"  replied  the  culprit,  aghast  at 
what  he  felt  sure  was  coming. 

"  Well,  there  's  the  drawer,"  said  Fred,  opening 
it.  "But  it  's  empty— like  the  bottles"— with  a 
smile  of  gleaming  sarcasm.  "  Grideon  Ketterell !  — 
where  's  that  cup  I " 


CHAPTER  XII 

GID'S   ENTANGLEMENT 

ID  stepped  to  the  drawer,  and  saw 
for  himself  that  the  prize  cup  was 
gone.  Only  the  red  napkin  re- 
mained as  it  had  been  left  when 
the  cup  was  replaced,  after  he  had 
shown  it  to  Osk. 

"  Hain't  you  took  it  out?"  he  asked,  as  he  turned 
an  appealing  look  on  Fred  Melverton. 
Fred  replied,  imperturbably : 
"  I  have  n't  taken  it,  nor  seen  it,  since  you  were 
witness  to  my  locking  it  in  that  drawer." 

"  Must  have  been  stole ! "  Gid  murmured.  "  Looks 
as  though  the  house  had  been  broke  into ! " 

"  It  certainly  has  been  stolen,"  the  young  master 
replied  frankly.  "And  the  house  has  been  broken 
into,  unless  your  key  let  the  robber  in." 

"  But  I  hain't  took  it ! "  Gid  protested,  with  the 
utmost  earnestness.  "  I  don't  know  nothing  about 

71 


72  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

it!"  In  times  of  unusual  excitement  he  was  apt 
to  relapse  into  double  negatives,  an  early  habit,  of 
which  he  was  supposed  to  have  been  cured  at 
school.  "I  wish  I  did!" 

He  was  almost  ready  to  cry.  Better  than  that, 
he  was  almost  ready  to  tell  the  truth.  Why  had 
he  not  done  so  before  I  Why  had  he  not  explained 
at  once  how  Osk  forced  his  way  into  the  house,  ac- 
tually compelled  him  to  show  the  cup,  and  then 
opened  two  bottles  of  the  cider  —  drinking  the 
most  of  it  himself  —  in  spite  of  him?  Instead 
of  that,  he  had  gone  on  with  denial  after  denial, 
winding  himself  up  in  this  terrible  entanglement, 
from  which  even  confession  itself  might  not  clear 
him. 

Fred  Melverton  put  to  him  a  few  more  search- 
ing questions,  without  obtaining  satisfactory  re- 
plies, then  said  quietly: 

"I  don't  see  that  you  will  help  me  much  in 
clearing  up  the  mystery.  You  can  go,  Gideon, 
and  await  further  orders." 

Again  Gideon  turned  toward  him  with  red,  ap- 
pealing eyes. 

"I  hope  you  don't  think  I — "  he  uttered,  with  a 
a  lump  in  his  throat. 

"I  am  not  prepared  to  say  what  I  think,"  the 


GID'S  ENTANGLEMENT  73 

young  man  replied,  with  a  resolute  calmness  more 
terrifying  to  poor  Gid  than  violent  threats  or  ac- 
cusations would  have  been.  "Go,  now." 

Gid  hesitated,  struggled  with  the  lump  in  his 
throat,  trying  to  speak,  and  finally  withdrew  with- 
out another  word;  but  paused  again  at  the  door, 
with  half  a  mind  to  go  back  and  confess  his  own 
share  in  the  transaction  which  he  felt  sure  must 
at  least  have  opened  the  way  to  the  robbery.  But 
that  simple  step  required  more  courage  than  he 
possessed ;  and  every  moment  was  making  it  more 
difficult  for  him  to  take  it.  He  slowly  went  down 
the  steps,  and  presently  the  merry  clatter  of  the 
lawn-mower  was  heard  once  more.  But  it  was 
not  a  merry  sound  to  Gid's  ear. 

Then  Fred  Melverton  turned  to  his  guest,  who 
had  all  the  while  sat  a  silent  spectator  of  the 
scene,  and  exclaimed : 

"Old  fellow,  speak  a  word!" 

And  the  guest  replied,  "It 's  a  funny  conglom' ! " 
meaning  conglomeration,  as  we  may  as  well  inter- 
pret for  the  benefit  of  those  who  have  n't  heard 
young  people  spice  their  speech  with  these  pecu- 
liar abbreviations. 

"  What  do  you  make  of  that  boy ! "  Melverton 
asked,  walking  nervously  to  and  fro. 


74  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

."  Want  my  opin'  ?  Let  me  tell  you  first,  Melf," 
the  guest  answered,  "  what  I  make  of  you.  I  've 
thought  the  Tech "  (Institute  of  Technology)  "  was 
your  right  place,  and  I  was  confirmed  in  that  when 
I  saw  you  befog  that  boy's  brain  (if  he  has  one) 
with  your  jargon  about  ventilation,  condensation, 
evaporation,  and  all  the  other  Cations.  But  now 
I  'm  under  the  impresh'  that  you  should  have 
chosen  the  law." 

"How  do  you  make  that  out?"  Melverton  in- 
quired. 

"  Why,  the  way  you  cross-exam'd  that  unwilling 
witness  was  worthy  of  a  first-class  pettifogger. 
You  tangled  him  up  like  a  dog-fish  in  a  square 
rod  of  gill-netting." 

"Was  n't  it  his  own  fault?"  Fred  demanded, 
with  some  irritation. 

"  No  doubt  of  it ! "  said  Quimby.  "  It  was  not 
the  bald-headed  truth  he  was  giving  you.  But  it 
seemed  to  me  you  began  at  the  wrong  end  of  the 
string  in  trying  to  get  the  snarl  out." 

"I  don't  see,  Canton!"  Fred  replied.  "What 
are  you  driving  at  ? " 

"Suppose,"  said  Canton  Quimby,  with  a  smile 
that  would  have  sugar-coated  his  bitterest  criti- 
cism— "suppose  you  had  shown  him  the  empty 


GIB'S  ENTANGLEMENT  75 

drawer  in  the  first  place  and  given  him  time  to 
think  what  a  serious  business  it  was,  before  you 
tried  your  corkscrew?" 

"  I  was  only  trying  to  loosen  the  wires  from  the 
cork,  before  opening  the  bottle,"  Fred  said,  tossing 
back  the  figure  of  speech. 

"  Instead  of  that  you  were  all  the  while  twisting 
them  tighter.  You  let  him  commit  himself  to  one 
denial  after  another,  in  minor  matters  which  in- 
volved tracks  that  led  directly  to  the  trap  you  had 
ready  to  spring  upon  him  —  tracks  he  could  n't  re- 
trace. Do  I  make  my  meaning  clear  I " 

"  I  should  say  so ! "  Fred  exclaimed,  with  a  rue- 
ful laugh.  "  Instead  of  opening  his  mouth  I  was 
ingeniously  shutting  it." 

"  Something  like  that,"  Quimby  smilingly  as- 
sented. 

"  How  much  does  he  know  about  the  robbery  ? " 

"  Something ;  not  everything,"  replied  the  guest. 

"That  's  the  way  I  read  him,"  said  Melverton. 
"  I  can't  think  he  stole  the  cup  himself,  but  I  'm 
inclined  to  believe  he  knows  who  did.  He 's  mixed 
up  in  it." 

Canton  Quimby  nodded  approvingly,  and  said: 
"  Of  course  he  is." 

"  The  cider  I  care  nothing  about ;  some  not  very 


76  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

bad  boys  might  fall  into  a  temptation  of  that  sort. 
And  I  could  pardon  his  carelessness — if  that 's  the 
name  for  it  —  in  leaving  the  window  unclasped. 
But  he  is  so  evidently  concealing  something !  1 'm 
at  a  loss  to  know  what  to  do." 

"  Want  my  opin'  ? " 

"  I  should  like  it  very  much." 

"Tell  that  youthful  prevaricator  he  can  put  on 
his  coat  and  go  home.  In  short,  fire  him !  That 
is,"  said  the  guest,  "unless  he  will  tell  you  where 
the  cup  is,  or  who  has  it." 

"  That  's  the  logic  of  it,  of  course,"  said  Fred, 
again  walking  to  and  fro  in  troubled  thought. 
"  But  I  don't  want  to  injure  him.  His  mother  is 
really  a  very  worthy  woman,  and  I  hate  a  scandal." 

"  Naturally.  But,  Melf ,  it  is  n't  generally  thought 
wise  to  keep  a  person  in  a  place  of  trust  after  he 
has  shown  himself  unfaithful." 

"You  're  right  every  time,"  Fred  said,  hastily 
clearing  the  table ;  which  done,  the  two  went  out 
and  walked  about  the  place. 

"  The  house  will  be  all  right  for  a  few  days,"  re- 
marked the  young  proprietor,  musingly ;  "  so  will 
the  lawn  and  the  flower-beds.  But  I  must  get 
somebody  to  feed  the  cat  and  the  poultry.  I  think 
T  can  manage  that." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

GID  LOSES  HIS   SITUATION 


HE  lawn  had  been  trimmed,  and 
Gid  Ketterell  was  running  the  in- 
verted mower  toward  the  barn, 
when  Melverton  intercepted  him. 
"  Well,  Gideon,  you  've  had  a  lit- 
tle time  to  think  about  it.  You  see  how  it  is.  Can 
you  give  me  any  idea  how  that  cup  has  got  hocus- 
pocused  out  of  the  house  while  you  have  been  in 
charge  1  That  's  what  we  've  got  to  find  out,  you 
know." 

"I  know  it,"  replied  Gid.  "And  I  'd  tell  if  I 
had  the  slightest  notion  what 's  become  of  it,  — 
but  I  hain't." 

In  the  interim  of  reflection  he  had  fully  resolved 
to  stick  to  his  original  story,  and  admit  nothing 
that  would  reflect  blame  upon  himself. 

"You  can't  think  of  anybody  who  may  have 
known  about  it,  and  got  into  the  house  and  taken 

77 


78  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

it  I  For  I  can't  find  that  anything  else  has  been 
touched,"  Fred  continued.  "  Seems  to  me  you 
must  be  able  to  tell  us  something." 

"  I  would  if  I  could,"  Grid  muttered,  with  a  dog- 
ged, down  look,  tipping  his  hat-brim  so  as  to  hide 
his  conscious  face ;  "  but  I  can't." 

"  Sorry ! "  replied  Fred,  exchanging  glances  with 
Canton  Quimby,  who  stood  by,  twirling  a  flower  in 
his  fingers,  but  never  losing  a  word  of  the  dialogue. 
"  I  'm  afraid  I  shall  have  to  dispense  with  your  ser- 
vices, Gideon." 

"All  right ! "  said  Gideon,  surlily.  That  was  evi- 
dently what  he  had  expected. 

"The  house  has  been  entered,  I  rather  think, 
more  than  once.  Cider-bottles  have  been  emptied ; 
I  find  a  sash  unfastened,  and  a  prize  no  money  can 
replace  has  disappeared.  Mind,  I  don't  accuse  you 
of  anything.  But  look  at  it  yourself  —  does  n't  it 
seem  as  if  the  place  might  have  been  better  taken 
care  of  ? " 

"Maybe  it  might;  don't  know,"  Gid  mumbled. 
He  wanted  to  say  more,  but  the  lump  was  in  his 
throat  again ;  and,  indeed,  what  could  he  say,  un- 
less he  began  by  retracting  his  previous  denials, 
the  falsity  of  which  he  felt  was  certain  some  day 
to  appear? 


GID  LOSES  HIS  SITUATION  79 

Fred  waited  a  minute  for  him  to  speak,  then 
said  gently: 

"  I  '11  take  your  key  of  the  house,  if  you  please." 
Gid  produced  it  from  his  pocket.  "  Thank  you, 
Gideon." 

"  Sha'n't  I  carry  that  bottle  to  the  cellar  I "  Gid  in- 
quired, looking  up  with  a  sullen  despair  in  his  eyes. 

"  No,  I  won't  trouble  you.  The  bottles  will  do 
very  well  without  your  attention,"  Fred  replied, 
with  a  shade  of  sarcasm  in  his  tones.  "  Let 's  see, 
you  've  been  here  —  not  quite  so  long  as  you  might 
have  stayed  under  other  circumstances."  He  was 
opening  his  pocket-book,  while  Gid,  his  eyes  once 
more  cast  down,  kicked  the  graveled  walk  with  his 
toes.  "It  was  to  be  five  dollars  a  week,  was  n't  it?" 

Gid's  features  worked,  and  a  tear  slid  down  his 
cheek.  He  had  been  so  proud  of  his  "  snap,"  as  he 
called  it;  and  the  money,  to  be  so  easily  earned, 
had  seemed  so  much  to  him !  I  regret  to  say,  he 
had  considered  far  less  what  it  would  be  to  his 
hard-working  mother.  It  was  as  a  hard-hitting 
mother  that  he  thought  of  her  now. 

"We  '11  call  it  seven  dollars,"  said  Melverton, 
"if  that  strikes  you  favorably." 

"  I  don't  want  your  money,"  Gid  muttered,  sniff- 
ing away  his  tears.  "  I  won't  take  it ! " 


80  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

He  was  turning  away,  convulsed  with  grief,  or 
anger,  or  remorse,  or  dread  of  Ms  mother,  or  all 
these  together,  when  Fred  laid  a  hand  kindly  on 
his  shoulder,  and  with  the  other  extended  the 
bank-notes. 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  will,  Gideon ! "  he  said,  his  voice 
trembling  a  little  with  sympathetic  emotion. 
"  Take  it  to  your  mother ;  she  can't  afford  to  miss 
anything  you  may  have  the  luck  to  earn.  I  hoped 
you  would  earn  a  good  deal  for  her  and  yourself 
during  the  summer.  I  am  as  much  disappointed 
as  you  are,  Gideon." 

He  thrust  the  bills  under  the  boy's  suspenders. 
Then,  after  a  pause :  "In  parting  with  you,  may  I 
give  you  a  bit  of  advice? — with  the  kindest  feel- 
ings toward  you,  Gideon,  understand.  If  another 
chance  offers,  be  faithful, — and  truthful,  and — " 
His  voice  broke.  "  Gideon,"  he  added,  with  an 
effort  of  self-control,  "I  am  as  sorry  as  you  are; 
and — I — I  wish  you  well!" 

This  was  more  than  Gid  could  stand.  He  was 
prepared  to  encounter  harsh  and  threatening 
words;  but  kindness  was  too  much  for  him.  He 
started  to  speak,  but  found  he  could  n't  without 
sobbing.  If  Fred  had  given  him  time,  and  asked 
him  again  to  tell  the  truth,  he  might  have  told  all. 


GID    MOVED    SULLENLY    AWAY.' 


GID  LOSES  HIS  SITUATION  83 

But  Fred  merely  said,  "  Leave  the  barn  key  in  the 
door,  after  you  put  away  the  mower,"  and  walked 
off  with  his  friend. 

Grid  obeyed,  and  with  his  coat  on  his  arm  moved 
sullenly  away,  muttering  to  himself  revengefully: 
"  It  was  Osk, — I  know  it  was,  as  well  as  if  I  'd 
seen  him  do  it !  It  's  all  up  with  me !  I  '11  just 
about  kill  him,  when  I  ketch  him,  if  ma  don't  kill 
me  first!" 


CHAPTER  XIV 

MIDGET  AND   HIS   FKIENDS 

JHAT  do  you  think  now?"  Fred 
asked  his  friend,  as  he  led  the 
way  down  the  bank  toward  the 
brooklet. 

"Want  my  opin'?" 
"I  always  want  it" 

"In  the  first  place,"  said  Canton  Quimby,  "I 
find  I  was  mistaken,  after  all,  about  your  proper 
sphere.  It  's  neither  science  nor  the  law;  it  's 
the  ministry." 

"How  do  you  cipher  that  out?" 
"Why,   you  talked  to  that  scapegrace    like   a 
regular  old  parson.    Almost  made  me  cry!" 

"  I  hope  I  have  n't  wronged  him !  Or,  rather, 
I  hope  I  have !  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  know  that 
my  suspicion  is  unfounded.  I  'm  wondering  what 
my  mother  will  say,"  Fred  added  dubiously. 

"Your  suspish'  is  all  right;  founded  on  a  rock," 


MIDGET  AND  HIS  FRIENDS  85 

replied  Quimby,  confidently.  "Did  n't  you  see? 
He  was  on  the  very  point  of  breaking  down.  Your 
old  clergyman's  talk  went  deep, — plowed  a  tre- 
mendous subsoil  furrow, — really  got  down  to  his 
conscience,  if  you  call  it  that,  when  it  's  the  fear 
of  exposure  chiefly  that  makes  a  poor  sinner  anx- 
ious to  confess  a  fault,  and  sorry  he  committed  it. 
Not  a  first-class  conscience, — hardly  the  genuine, 
fast-color,  warranted-not-to-fade  article, — but  '  jes' 
better  than  none  at  all,'  as  the  old  negro  woman 
said  of  her  husband.  He  '11  own  up  yet." 

"  I  hope  he  will ! "  Fred  exclaimed  fervently. 

"  But  I  say,  Melf  ! "  cried  Quimby,  looking  round 
upon  the  little  glen  into  which  they  had  descended. 
"You  did  n't  tell  me  you  kept  a  small  private 
paradise  here!  A  miniature  Garden  of  Eden! 
This  brook,  these  wooded  banks  and  overarching 
boughs,  the  sunshine  flickering  through, — it 's  per- 
fectly exquiz' ! " 

"G-lad  you  like  it,"  said  the  young  proprietor, 
well  pleased. 

"  Like  it,"  echoed  the  guest.  "  That  's  no  word 
for  it.  Where  's  Adam  ?  Seems  to  me  he  should 
be  strolling  around  somewhere.  This  bench — little 
Cain  and  Abel  might  have  sat  here  and  counted 
their  marbles,  or  played  with  their  popguns,  and 


86  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

listened  to  the  finches  and  the  waterfalls,  and  quar- 
reled, and  been  as  happy  as  any  children  in  the 
world,  at  that  early  period.  There  's  the  infant 
Cain  now, — or  is  it  Abel  1 " 

"  It  's  the  little  deaf-mute  I  told  you  about,"  said 
Melverton.  "  Over  there  is  the  parsonage  side  of 
the  brook." 

Quimby  was  regarding  the  child  with  intense 
curiosity. 

"What  an  elf!"  he  exclaimed. 

"  I  '11  show  him  to  you,"  said  Melverton,  leading 
the  way  along  the  streamlet's  edge. 

At  a  spot  where  it  gushed  between  two  rocks, 
the  child  was  stooping  over  a  tiny  water-wheel 
which  the  current  kept  whirling,  while  he  dropped 
twigs  and  small  sticks  upon  it,  to  see  them  flung 
off  with  the  flying  drops.  He  was  unconscious  of 
the  voices  and  the  feet  approaching  behind  him, 
until  the  young  men  were  quite  near;  then  he 
turned  with  quick  surprise  and  a  bright  laugh, 
as  Fred  crossed  the  brook  and  caught  him  up  in 
his  arms. 

"  He  's  the  preciousest  little  old  man  that  ever 
was!"  cried  Fred,  tossing  him.  "He  knows  his 
best  friend ! "  as  the  child  put  out  a  tiny  hand  and 
smoothed  the  young  man's  cheek.  "  But  think  of 


'FRED    CROSSED    THE   BROOK    AND    CAUGHT    HIM    UP    IN    HIS    ARMS.' 


MIDGET  AND  HIS  FRIENDS  89 

it,  Quimby !  He  can't  hear  a  word,  and  never  will 
in  all  his  life ! " 

"'The  pity  of  it!  The  pity  of  it!'"  Quimby 
quoted,  with  a  sincerity  of  feeling  that  betrayed 
a  tender  heart  under  all  his  gaiety.  "Born  so?" 

"  No.  Scarlet  fever.  A  terrible  calamity.  He  's 
the  only  one  who  does  n't  realize  it.  You  never 
saw  a  happier  sprite.  Curious,  what  compensa- 
tions nature  sometimes  provides  for  our  worst  ills. 
Blessed  himself,  he  's  a  blessing  to  all  around  him. 
Keeps  the  little  trickling  springs  of  affection  open 
in  their  hearts,  you  know.  I  believe  he  's  a  source 
of  deeper  happiness  to  his  mother  than  if  he  had 
all  his  five  senses,  like  the  other  children." 

There  were  bright  tears  in  the  young  man's  fine 
eyes  as  he  held  the  child  on  his  shoulder,  clasping 
with  one  hand  the  little  feet,  and  with  the  other 
arm  hugging  him  close  to  his  handsome  head  and 
manly  neck. 

"He  must  be  a  great  care,  though,"  said  Quimby, 
looking  into  the  child's  laughing  eyes,  and  study- 
ing their  expression.  "Mischievous,  I  fancy." 

"He  's  in  everything!"  Fred  replied.  "Of 
course  it  's  impossible  to  discipline  him  as  you 
would  another  child.  Conscientious  —  very  —  in 
his  own  way ;  but  his  notions  of  right  and  wrong 


90  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

are  sometimes  strangely  inverted,  judged  by  our 
standards.  If  he  wants  a  thing,  he  '11  have  it,  if 
he  can  get  it;  the  desire  is  justification  enough, 
to  his  unsophisticated  conscience." 

"  Have  they  ever  tried  to  teach  him  to  speak  by 
the  modern  methods  of  deaf-mute  instruction  I " 

"  Yes,  but  without  much  success.  He  won't  even 
learn  the  printed  or  sign  alphabet.  The  trouble 
is,"  said  Fred,  "he  communicates  too  easily  in  a 
sign-language  of  his  own.  He  is  trying  to  tell 
us  something  now.  What  is  it,  Midget  ?  That  's 
the  name  we  can't  help  giving  him,  it  fits  him  so 
exactly." 

The  child,  carried  in  his  arms  along  the  brook- 
side,  looked  back  up  the  stream,  making  earnest 
gestures,  a  quick,  whirling  movement  of  his  little 
hand  being  one  of  them. 

"  Something  about  his  water-wheel,"  Quimby 
observed,  making  a  similar  motion  in  return. 

Midget  nodded  with  pleasure,  and,  slipping  from 
Fred's  arms,  ran  back  to  the  spot  where  he  had 
left  his  wheel.  This  he  removed  from  its  support 
of  two  stakes,  held  it  up  laughingly,  and  made 
signs  that  were  easy  to  interpret. 

"He  is  afraid  some  accident  may  happen  to  it 
if  he  leaves  it  there,"  Fred  remarked ;  "  and  he  is 


MIDGET  AND  HIS  FRIENDS  91 

going  to  take  it  to  the  house.  Let 's  see  if  I  can 
make  him  do  an  errand  for  me." 

As  Midget  came  running  back  to  him,  Fred  se- 
cured his  attention,  and,  looking  down  into  his 
bright  little  face,  began  to  communicate  with 
him  in  a  way  that  surprised  and  amused  Canton 
Quimby,  who  stood  observing  them,  and  endeavor- 
ing to  read  their  language. 

uHe  understands,"  Melverton  said,  as  the  child, 
with  a  final  affirmative  response,  started  to  run  up 
the  bank  toward  the  old  parsonage. 

"I  understand,  too, —  some  of  your  gestures, 
anyway,"  replied  Quimby.  "When  you  put  up 
your  hand,  —  like  this, —  you  meant  to  ask  for 
somebody  as  high  as  your  necktie ;  but  when  you 
put  it  behind  your  ears,  with  a  motion  of  cutting 
your  head  off,  that  bothered  yours  truly." 

"  I  meant  a  person  about  that  height,  as  you  say, 
and  with  short  hair.  His  mother  is  near  Tracy's 
height,  and  his  sister  is  almost  as  tall;  but  they 
have  long  hair.  There  's  a  young  minister  board- 
ing in  the  house;  but  he  is  taller  than  Tracy. 
Midget  told  me  his  brother  was  at  home;  then 
I  said,  'Find  him,  and  bring  him  down  here  to 
see  me.' 

"  That 's  nothing  to  the  conversations  his  family 


92  THE  PEIZE  CUP 

can  carry  on  with  him,"  Fred  went  on  as  they 
seated  themselves  on  the  bench  by  the  brook. 
"It  's  a  very  interesting  family,  as  you  will  see ; 
for  I  am  going  to  introduce  you  to  them  some 
time,  though  not  to-day." 


CHAPTER  XV 


TKACY  TRIUMPHANT 

HERE  comes  Tracy.  He  ?s  a  re- 
markably fine  boy.  The  mother 
is  a  rare  woman,  but  she  finds  it  a 
hard  struggle  to  get  along,  and  it 's 
a  constant  study  with  some  of  the 
well-to-do  parishioners  how  to  help  the  family 
without  making  them  feel  that  they  are  objects 
of  charity.  Notice  what  a  frank,  engaging  face  he 
has ! "  Fred  said,  as  Tracy,  brightly  smiling,  came 
down  the  bank. 

"  How  are  you,  Tracy  ?  "  he  went  on,  when  Tracy 
was  nearer,  and  gave  the  new-comer  a  hearty 
handshake.  "  This  is  my  friend,  Mr.  Canton 
Quimby,  of  Yale.  We  have  just  taken  a  run  up 
from  the  beach  to  look  at  our  place.  What  did 
Laurie  tell  you?" 

"He  said  you  were  here,  and  a  friend  with  you, 
not  quite  so  tall,  but  a  little  stouter,  and  with 


94  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

fuller  cheeks/'  said  Tracy,  laughing  to  see  how 
perfectly  the  Yale  Junior  answered  the  child's 
description. 

"All  that  in  his  own  sign-language ? "  Canton 
Quimby  inquired  with  evident  interest. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  he  has  been  more  our  teacher  in  that 
than  any  one  has  ever  been  his.  Conie  up  to  the 
house,  won't  you?  Mother  will  be  glad  to  see 
you,"  said  Tracy. 

"  I  'm  afraid  we  can't  at  present,"  Melverton  re- 
plied; "but  I  've  something  to  say  to  you  here. 
Sit  down,  for  it  may  be  a  long  story." 

But  Tracy  remained  standing  before  the  young 
men  on  the  bench,  while  he  heard  from  Fred's  lips, 
with  running  comments  by  Quimby,  an  account  of 
the  strange  doings  on  the  Melverton  premises,  and 
of  Grid's  dismissal. 

Astonishment  at  the  loss  of  the  cup,  and  the 
mystery  attending  it,  and,  as  must  be  owned,  the 
satisfaction  of  his  grudge  against  Gideon,  sent 
the  blood  mounting  to  the  boy's  head  in  keen 
excitement. 

"  I  never  had  any  faith  in  that  Ketterell  fellow ! " 
he  exclaimed ;  "  and  I  was  surprised  —  " 

A  timely  recollection  of  his  mother's  warning 
checked  the  impetuous  outburst ;  but  for  that  he 


TRACY  TRIUMPHANT  95 

might  have  gone  on  and  given  his  latest,  burning 
reasons  for  disliking  Gideon. 

"  Surprised  I  should  have  employed  him,"  Mel- 
verton  rejoined.  "I  am  a  little  surprised  myself. 
But  my  mother  thought  we  ought  to  give  him  a 
chance.  And  I  surely  believed  he  was  honest. 
Mind,  I  don't  say  I  'm  convinced  to  the  contrary 
yet.  He  has  unquestionably  been  negligent,  and 
he  may  have  been  knowingly  unfaithful,  but  we 
are  bound  to  have  a  good  deal  of  charity  for  the 
son  of  so  worthy  a  mother — and  of  so  unworthy 
a  father!" 

"  That  's  true,"  Tracy  assented,  generously ; 
"that  's  what  mother  says.  Old  man  Ketterell 
can't  be  trusted  even  to  collect  money  for  the 
washing  his  wife  does  to  support  the  family.  Grid 
comes  honestly  by  his  shiftlessness." 

"  So  we  won't  be  hard  on  him,"  Fred  went  on. 
"  But  this  affair  must  be  looked  into ;  and  in  the 
meanwhile,  Tracy,  can't  you,  as  a  special  favor  to 
me,  keep  your  eye  on  the  place,  and  perhaps  air 
the  house  for  us  in  fine  weather  ? " 

Tracy  was  delighted. 

"I  '11  do  everything  that  Grid  did, — or  ought  to 
have  done, — and  think  it  nothing  but  sport,"  he 
said,  heartily. 


96  THE  PEIZE  CUP 

"That  's  altogether  too  much,"  the  young  man 
protested. 

"  Just  let  me  try  it !  "  cried  the  boy.  "  Our  own 
garden  does  n't  take  more  than  a  few  hours  a 
week,  and  Mr.  Walworth  likes  to  help  about  that. 
And — I  shall  be  so  glad  to  do  the  least  thing  in 
return  for  all  the  favors  your  family  has  done  for 
us,"  he  added,  with  grateful  emotion. 

"  Oh,  don't  mention  trifles  of  that  sort ! "  Fred 
replied,  with  responsive  feeling.  Then  he  resumed: 
"It  's  just  possible  you  may  pick  up  a  clue  that 
will  lead  to  the  unraveling  of  the  mystery.  Look 
out  for  any  suspicious  characters  that  come  prowl- 
ing about  the  place ;  and  find  out,  if  you  can,  any 
that  have  been  seen  there  during  Grid's  administra- 
tion. If  you  make  any  discoveries,  send  me  at 
once  a  telegram  that  I  and  nobody  else  will  under- 
stand, for  I  don't  want  any  publicity  given  to  the 
affair  at  present.  I  sha'n't  mention  it  to  a  living 
soul,  except  the  chief  of  police." 

"  Can  I  tell  my  own  folks?"  Tracy  asked,  thrilled 
to  the  roots  of  his  hair  by  the  confidence  his  friend 
reposed  in  him,  and  by  the  importance  of  his  trust. 
It  did  n't  seem  possible  that  he  could  keep  it  all  to 
himself. 

"Tell  them — oh,  certainly;   we  can  rely  upon 


TEACY  TRIUMPHANT  97 

their  discretion,"  Fred  replied.  "Now  come  over 
to  the  house,  and  I  '11  give  you  the  keys  and  ex- 
plain matters." 

"  You  're  sure  you  can't  just  step  up  to  the  door 
and  speak  to  my  mother  and  Ida  1 "  said  Tracy. 

But  Fred  answered  firmly:  "Not  this  time"; 
and  led  the  way  up  the  Melverton  bank. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

TKACY   GETS   A   "  CLUE  " 

|HY,  what  is  it,  Trace!"  said  Ida 
Lisle,  noticing  her  brother's  pant- 
ing breath  and  gleaming  eyes  when 
he  came  in  to  dinner. 

"The  strangest  things  have  been 
happening ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  They  're  not  to  be 
spoken  of  outside," — he  glanced  around  at  the 
young  minister  coming  out  of  his  study  —  "but  I 
can  tell  you  all,  here  at  home." 

And,  without  waiting  to  be  questioned,  he  broke 
forth  impetuously : 

"  The  Melverton  house  has  been  entered,  Fred's 
beautiful  prize  cup  has  been  stolen,  Grid  Ketterell 
has  been  turned  off,  and  I  am  in  charge ! " 

The  exciting  news  was  discussed  as  the  family 
sat  down  at  the  table. 

"I  am  sorry  for  Grideon  —  and  so  sorry  for  his 
mother  !  "  said  Mrs.  Lisle.  "  I  hope  he  is  not  sus- 
pected of  taking  the  cup." 


TRACY  GETS  A   "CLUE"  101 

"  Not  exactly,  but  —  "  \\  ^  j :  ^ ; 

And  Tracy  went  over  the  ^cfrcunistances  of  the 
case  as  well  as  he  could  recall?  Vt$eja50  VHs^H/ 

"  Now  I  am  to  look  after  the  place,  and  do  what 
I  can  —  if  there  's  anything  I  can  do  —  toward 
clearing  up  the  mystery.  I  have  n't  the  slightest 
idea  how  I  am  to  begin." 

"  Possibly  I  can  give  you  a  hint,"  suggested  Mr. 
Walworth.  "Gideon,  I  understand,  says  he  re- 
ceived no  one  into  the  house  in  the  absence  of 
the  family!" 

"  He  was  quite  positive  about  that ;  so  Fred  told 
me,"  replied  Tracy. 

"  I  shall  regret  to  contradict  Gideon's  testimony," 
rejoined  the  young  minister.  "  You  know  the  rock 
among  the  syringas,  where  I  sometimes  have  my 
cushion,  and  my  book,  and  my  writing-pad  — " 

"  Your  out-door  study,  we  call  it,"  said  Ida. 

"Last  Tuesday  afternoon  I  was  there,  making 
some  notes,  when  I  noticed  a  young  fellow  coming 
down  through  the  hollow  by  the  brook.  Some- 
thing in  his  manner  excited  my  curiosity;  and  I 
watched  him  as  he  went  up  rather  slyly  over  the 
bank  toward  the  Melverton  house.  I  saw  him 
throw  something  from  behind  the  shrubbery ;  then 
I  heard  a  voice, —  two  voices, —  and  he  disappeared 


102  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

in  ;tl>e'v  direction  Q£  the  house.    I  continued  to  hear 
the  voices  for  'a  Vhile,  then  they  ceased  with  the 
v 


vo£  tfe.cloor.  .  I  had  forgotten  the  circum- 
stance, and  was  absorbed  in  my  studies  again, 
when  —  I  hardly  know  how  long  after  —  I  heard 
the  same  subdued  voices,  and  shortly  after  saw 
the  same  young  fellow  come  down  over  the  bank, 
moving  cautiously  till  he  got  into  the  ravine. 
Then,  instead  of  going  up  the  brook,  the  way  he 
came,  he  followed  it  down  toward  the  bridge,  and 
I  lost  sight  of  him." 

More  than  once  during  this  recital  Tracy  had 
interrupted  it  to  demand  excitedly,  —  "Who  was 
it?  Who  was  the  fellow!"  and  his  sister  had 
silenced  him  with,  "  Can't  you  wait  a  minute  1 
Can't  you  let  him  tell  his  story  ?  "  At  length  the 
minister  replied: 

"I  don't  know  his  name;  but  I  have  several 
times  seen  him,  oftener  on  the  river  than  anywhere 
else.  Under  the  clump  of  willows,  not  far  from 
where  the  brook  flows  in,  somebody  keeps  a  boat, 
which  I  have  seen  him  help  himself  to,  as  if  he  had 
a  right  to  it." 

"A  muscular  young  fellow  with  a  bend  in  his 
shoulders  !  Carries  his  head  forward  —  like  this  f  " 
cried  Tracy  eagerly. 


TEACY  GETS  A   "CLUE"  .        103 

"  That  's  it ;  that 's  very  like  him,"  Mr.  Walworth 
smilingly  assented. 

"It  's  Osk!  It  's  Oscar  Ordway!"  Tracy  ex- 
claimed. "The  very  last  fellow  the  Melvertons 
would  wish  to  enter  their  house ! " 

"Mind,  I  don't  say  positively  he  did  enter  it," 
said  the  minister.  "I  've  only  told  you  how  it 
appeared  to  me." 

"Of  course  Grid  let  him  in,"  Tracy  cried  jubi- 
lantly. "  You  've  given  me  a  very  important  point, 
Mr.  Walworth.  If  Osk  Ordway  did  n't  drink  some 
of  that  cider,  and  if  he  does  n't  know  something 
about  the  missing  cup,  then  there  's  no  sense  in 
my  knowledge-box!" 

"Don't  start  out  with  the  notion  that  there  's 
more  sense  in  it  than  there  really  is,"  his  sister 
warned  him,  laughingly.  "  There  's  a  limit  even 
to  that,  as  we  all  know." 

"Oh,  but  anybody  can  see,"  cried  her  brother, 
"  Osk  is  in  it,  and  Grid  knows  he  is.  I  know  boys 
that  know  Osk,  and  I  'm  going  into  this  affair,  to 
the  very  bottom." 

"  Don't  be  rash,  my  son,"  his  mother  cautioned 
him.  "Whatever  you  do,  be  considerate,  be  dis- 
creet." 

"  Considerate  ? "  echoed  the  boy,  in  a  flush  of 


104  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

high  spirits.  "  I  'm  the  most  considerate,  the  most 
discreet  —  I  '11  prove  it  to  you!  In  all  my  talk 
with  Fred  Melverton,  I  never  mentioned  the  mean 
trick  Gid  played  our  Laurie,  nor  his  impudent  at- 
tempt to  drive  me  from  the  place.  If  that  does  n't 
show  forbearance ! " 

"Well,  be  as  circumspect  in  everything,  and  I 
shall  be  satisfied,"  said  his  mother.  "Why,  Laurie! 
where  have  you  been?"  she  cried,  precisely  as  if 
the  child,  who  just  then  came  running  in,  had  pos- 
sessed the  sense  he  lacked. 

There  had  been  inquiries  for  Midget  as  the  fam- 
ily were  sitting  down  to  dinner ;  but  he  was  so 
wayward  a  little  wanderer,  often  very  hard  to  find, 
since  no  calling  could  make  him  hear,  that  they  gave 
little  heed  to  his  absences,  assured  that  he  would  re- 
appear when  he  was  hungry,  if  not  before. 

He  was  in  a  joyous  mood,  and  he  had  a  merry  tale 
to  tell,  which  all  except  the  minister  understood. 

"  Somebody  has  taken  him  to  ride,"  said  his 
sister. 

"  On  a  bicycle,"  added  Tracy,  reading  the  child's 
rapid  gestures.  "There  were  two  bicycles;  they 
picked  him  up  at  the  bridge  — " 

"  Grave  him  a  fine  ride  to  the  village,"  Ida  struck 
in,  "and  dropped  him  at  the  bridge  again." 


TEACY  GETS  A  "CLUE"  105 

"Fred  and  his  friend,"  concluded  Tracy;  "it 
was  Fred  who  gave  him  the  ride.  They  were 
going  to  see  the  chief  of  police." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  he  tells  you  that !  "  said 
Mr.  Walworth. 

"  Oh,  no,  not  about  Fred's  errand  to  the  village," 
Tracy  replied.  "  Fred  told  me  that  was  his  inten- 
tion. I  wish  I  could  have  caught  him  when  he 
came  back  to  the  bridge,  to  tell  him  about  Osk 
Ordway.  For  it  's  a  clue!"  he  cried,  "decidedly 
a  clue,  and  I  'm  going  to  follow  it  up ! " 


CHAPTEE  XVII 

GIDEON  MEETS   HIS   FOE 

1HEN  aid  Ketterell  went  out  from 
the  Melverton  place  after  his  dis- 
missal, he  took  the  brookside  path 
below  the  bridge,   and    strode  as 
straight  as  the  winding  way  would 
permit  to  the  clump  of  willows  by  the  river,  where 
Osk  Ordway  usually  kept  his  boat. 
The  boat  was  gone. 

"  He  's  off  with  the  boys  somewheres,"  Gid  mut- 
tered, casting  impatient  glances  up  and  down  the 
placid  stream  out  of  his  reddened  and  sullen  eyes. 
"  Never  mind ;  I  don't  move  from  this  spot,  all  the 
same,  till  he  comes  in ! " 

There  was  a  tree  that  pushed  out  so  straight  from 
the  group,  before  its  top  and  branches  curved  up- 
ward over  the  water,  that  it  made  a  saddle-shaped 
seat.  This  Grid  bestrode;  and  with  a  large  limb 
at  his  back,  forming  an  upright  support,  he  found 


106 


GIDEON  MEETS  HIS  FOE  107 

himself  in  a  comfortable  position  while  waiting  for 
the  boat. 

Comfortable  as  to  his  body,  but  by  no  means  so 
as  to  his  state  of  mind.  Savagely  angry  with  Osk, 
whom  he  blamed  for  his  disgrace,  and  for  the  ter- 
rible suspicion  that  had  fallen  upon  him;  almost 
as  angry  with  himself  for  having  weakly  yielded  to 
Osk's  influence  after  he  had  been  warned  against 
it;  afraid  to  go  home  and  fall  into  the  hands  of 
his  mother  —  agitated  with  these  emotions  he  took 
no  thought  of  the  quaint  and  gnarly  old  easy-chair 
he  sat  on,  nor  of  the  pleasant,  sun-flecked  shade 
flung  over  and  about  him,  on  the  stream  and  on 
the  shore,  from  the  long  willow-boughs  swinging 
in  the  breeze. 

The  breeze  fanned  his  hot  brow ;  the  water  rip- 
pled and  sparkled  in  the  sun;  bees  and  dragon- 
flies  hovered  over  the  water-lilies  and  pickerel- 
weeds,  and  butterflies  flitted  along  the  shore. 
Turtles  were  sunning  themselves  on  a  half -sunken 
log,  and  a  kingfisher,  springing  his  rattle  as  he 
flew  from  a  tree  near  by,  poised  a  moment  in  the 
air,  and  then  struck  the  wave  with  a  splash.  But 
Grid  Ketterell  saw  none  of  these  things.  He  took 
out  his  knife,  and  began  to  whittle  the  trunk  on 
which  he  sat,  in  the  bark  of  which  many  a  pre- 


108  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

vious  jack-knife  had  carved  the  rude  initials  of 
names  he  knew. 

He  was  not  even  aware  that  he  had  a  knife  in 
his  hand.  Behind  his  screen  of  boughs  he  listened 
for  voices,  and  looked  up  and  down  the  shore  for 
the  returning  boat,  thinking  intently  of  the  bad 
things  that  had  happened  to  him,  what  he  ought 
to  have  done  differently,  and  what  he  was  still  to 
do  and  say  when  he  and  Osk  should  meet  once 
more  face  to  face.  He  hoped  that  would  happen 
soon,  before  he  had  time  to  get  over  his  anger; 
for  it  was  anger  alone,  as  he  very  well  knew,  that 
gave  him  courage  for  the  encounter. 

"  If  I  had  only  owned  up  when  I  had  a  chance ! " 
he  said  to  himself.  "Why  did  n't  I!  I  'd  have 
done  it,  if  I  had  n't  been  afraid  and  ashamed  to 
say  how  I  had  let  him  impose  on  me — forcing  his 
way  in,  making  me  show  him  the  cup,  and  drink- 
ing the  cider.  Now  see  where  I  am !  After  I  'd 
begun  to  lie,  I  could  n't  go  back.  Telling  the  truth 
could  n't  have  made  it  any  worse  for  me ;  I  should 
have  got  turned  off  just  the  same.  I  could  stand 
that.  But  to  be  blamed  for  what  Osk  did  after- 
ward! For  it  was  Osk — I  know  it  was  Osk  !  " 

He  was  musing  in  this  way,  though  not  in  so 
many  words,  when  he  heard  voices  and  the  clank 


GIDEON  MEETS  HIS  FOE  109 

of  oars,  and  presently  saw  Osk's  boat  coming 
around  a  bend.  Osk  was  in  the  stern,  steering, 
and  a  boy  about  Grid's  own  age  was  rowing,  with 
his  back  turned  toward  the  clump  of  willows. 

"It  's  Dord  Oliver,"  Gideon  said,  as  he  peered 
through  the  branches  with  fierce  eyes.  "  I  '11  wait 
till  he  gets  out  of  the  way.  You  may  laugh,  Osk 
Ordway,  but 't  will  be  out  of  t'  other  side  of  your 
mouth  when  I  tackle  you ! " 

The  voices  were  pitched  in  a  low  key,  but  sounds 
pass  easily  over  the  water,  and  soon  Grid  could  hear 
parts  of  the  conversation.  The  sound  of  his  own 
name,  uttered  by  Osk  with  a  derisive  titter,  was 
like  the  sting  of  a  hornet.  "  They  're  talking  about 
me!"  he  muttered,  holding  himself  stiff  and  still 
against  the  upright  trunk  to  keep  from  being  seen. 

Dord  made  some  reply,  but  the  words  were  in- 
distinguishable. Then  Osk  said: 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  can ;  he  's  one  of  the  sort  you  can 
do  almost  anything  with;  you  can  wind  him 
around  your  little  finger  —  at  least,  I  can !  Only 
don't  tell  him  I  said  I  had  seen  it;  he  made  me 
promise  not  to." 

"  They  're  talking  about  the  cup  ! "  thought  Gid, 
stunned  and  breathless.  He  listened  again,  as  the 
boat  drew  nearer. 


110  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

"  I  'm  afraid  you  won't  get  any  cider,"  said  Osk ; 
"for  there  was  only  one  more  bottle  left.  I  left 
that  for  manners.  But  you  can  make  him  show 
you  —  mind,  I  don't  say  what." 

If  he  meant  the  cup,  he  was  talking  as  if  he  be- 
lieved it  was  still  in  the  place  where  he  had  seen 
it.  Grid  was  bewildered  by  this  supposed  assump- 
tion on  the  part  of  the  suspected  thief,  until  he 
had  rallied  his  wits  a  little. 

Meanwhile  the  boys  ran  the  boat  aground,  and 
began  to  throw  out  fish,  which  they  counted  as 
they  cast  them  on  the  shore. 

"It  's  all  make-believe,"  Grid  reasoned.  "He 
thinks  it  's  time  for  the  cup  to  be  missed.  He 
knows  I  '11  accuse  him,  and  he  talks  that  way  so  he 
can  bring  up  a  witness  to  prove  that  he  thought  it 
was  still  in  the  house.  But  he  can't  throw  dust  in 
my  eyes  —  not  very  much ! " 

By  turning  his  head  a  little  and  looking  back  he 
could  watch  every  movement  of  the  others ;  while 
they  might  likewise  have  seen  him  if  they  had  not 
been  so  busy  with  their  catch  of  fish.  After  they 
had  thrown  these  out  and  had  stepped  out  them- 
selves, they  made  the  boat  fast  to  a  stake,  within 
three  paces  of  the  ambushed  Gideon. 

"You  divide  'em,  while  I  'm  cutting  twigs  to 


GIDEON  MEETS  HIS  FOE  113 

string  'em  on,"  said  Osk,  looking  up  into  the  wil- 
low branches,  and  advancing  directly  toward  Gid 
on  the  other  side  of  his  upright  tree.  He  was 
raising  his  hand  to  reach  the  hanging  branches 
beyond.  "Ough!"  he  ejaculated,  starting  back 
as  if  he  had  chanced  upon  a  wild  Indian  in  am- 
bush. "  What  in  thunder  —  Gid  !  " 

Grid  turned  upon  him  angrily  glowering  eyes. 

"  What 's  the  matter  with  you  ?  "  Osk  demanded? 
quickly  recovering  from  his  surprise  — "  stuck  here 
in  the  crotch  of  the  tree  !  " 

For  sole  response  Grid  continued  to  glare  at  him 
threateningly.  Osk  perceived  at  once  that  some 
untoward  thing  had  happened.  No  doubt  Grid  had 
overheard  his  talk  with  Dord;  well  if  it  were  no- 
thing worse ! 

"  Here  's  Gid  Ketterell,"  cried  Osk,  "  glum  as  an 
oyster.  I  can't  get  a  word  out  of  him." 

"  Osk  Ordway,"  said  Gid,  without  moving  from 
his  seat,  but  keeping  his  fiery  eyes  on  the  author 
of  his  woes,  "  you  '11  get  words  out  of  me  you  won't 
like  to  hear,  before  we  part  company.  I  can  wait 
until  you  string  your  fish  and  let  Dord  get  out  of 
the  way ;  for  I  guess  you  '  11  think  it  's  as  well  to 
talk  with  me  alone  ! " 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


OSK  OKDWAY'S  LITTLE  FINGEK 


LL  this  Grid  said  without  faltering, 
but  a  spasmodic  catching  of  his 
breath  made  his  voice  sound  omi- 
nously thick  and  tremulous. 

"Thunder  and  Mars!"  Osk  ex- 
claimed. "  I  never  saw  you  so  mad  in  all  my  life. 
I  did  n't  know  you  could  be  so  riled !  If  it 's  any- 
thing I  've  done,  I  '11  make  it  all  right." 

"  Oh,  yes ! "  Grid  retorted.  "  I  know  you  will. 
I  'm  one  of  the  sort  you  can  do  anything  with !  — 
wind  me  around  your  little  finger,  can  you  ?  We  '11 
see  about  that !  " 

"  That  was  all  in  fun,"  Osk  said,  trying  to  turn 
off  his  embarrassment  with  a  laugh.  "  I  '11  see  you 
in  a  minute." 

He  cut  two  or  three  forked  branches,  and  turned 
to  his  companion  on  the  shore. 

"  That 's  all  right,  Dord,"  he  said,  seeing  how  the 


OSK  ORD  WAY'S  LITTLE  FINGER  115 

fish  had  been  divided.  "  Take  whichever  pile  you 
please,  and  don't  wait  for  me.  I  've  got  to  have 
a  little  row  with  Grid  here,"  lowering  his  voice; 
"he  's  pudgicky  about  something, — what  I  was 
saying  to  you,  I  suppose.  Keep  dark  about  that 
thing,  Dord!" 

Osk  busied  himself  stringing  his  own  fish  until 
Dord  was  gone,  then  turned  once  more  to  Grid,  who 
got  down  from  the  tree-trunk  and  stood  confront- 
ing him. 

"  Now  what  is  it,  Grid  ?  "  Osk  asked  in  the  friend- 
liest way. 

"You  know  what  it  is!"  Gid  flung  back,  his 
quivering  features  charged  with  wrathful  reproach. 

"  My  talk  with  Dord,  I  suppose,"  said  Osk.  "  But 
I  don't  see  anything  in  that  to  raise  your  porcu- 
pine's quills  at  me  this  way.  A  fellow  must  have 
his  joke.  That 's  all  it  was." 

"  It  ain't  that,  and  you  know  it,"  replied  the  im- 
placable Gid. 

He  still  grasped  his  knife,  looking  as  if  he  might 
easily  be  tempted  to  turn  it  into  a  weapon.  Osk 
kept  a  wary  eye  on  the  blade. 

"Why,  Gid,  you  're  out  o'  your  head!  you  're 
crazy,  sure!"  he  said,  taking  a  step  backward. 

"You  '11  find  out  whether  I  'm  crazy  or  not," 


116  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

said  Grid,  growing  more  bold  and  menacing  as 
Osk  showed  a  disposition  to  retreat.  But  as  he 
advanced,  Osk  stopped  with  a  fire  in  his  eyes, 
and  put  up  a  warning  hand. 

"  Quit  right  there,  Grid ! "  he  said,  with  his  chin 
out  and  his  head  thrust  insolently  forward  from 
his  bent  shoulders.  "I  ain't  going  to  stand  this 
nonsense  —  talking  to  me  that  way  and  threaten- 
ing me!  Put  up  that  knife  or  I  '11  throw  it  into 
the  river, —  and  you  after  it." 

"  Better  try  it ! "  G-id  answered,  defiantly.  "  I  '11 
talk  as  I  please,  spite  of  your  bluster  and  pretended 
ignorance.  I  've  been  turned  off  by  Fred  Mel- 
verton,  —  kicked  out, —  and  ah1  through  you,  Osk 
Ordway ! " 

"  You  don't  say ! "  Osk  exclaimed.  "  I  never  be- 
lieved that  would  happen,  and  I  'm  awful  sorry. 
Did  he  miss  the  cider  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  and  he  missed  something  else,  Osk  Ord- 
way!" Gid  leveled  at  him  a  terrible  look.  Osk 
turned  pale  —  so  at  least  Gid  thought,  as  he  put 
the  question  Fred  had  put  to  him, — "Where  is 
that  prize  cup  ?  " 

"  That  prize  cup ! "  Osk  repeated,  with  real  or 
feigned  astonishment.  "You  don't  mean  —  " 

"  Yes,  I  do  mean !    The  prize  cup  I  was  fool 


OSK  ORDWAY'S  LITTLE  FINGEE  117 

enough  to  show  you,  and  you  were  dishonest 
enough  to  steal ! w  said  Gideon. 

"  You  don't  say  that  has  been  taken !  You  left 
it  in  the  drawer;  I  saw  you,"  Osk  said  rather 
weakly,  as  it  seemed  to  Grid. 

"  And  nobody  else  saw  me,"  Grid  retorted.  "  No- 
body else  knew  where  to  look  for  it.  The  cider 
and  the  cup  are  the  only  things  Fred  has  missed. 
You  know  about  the  cider  and  you  know  about 
the  cup." 

"  Did  you  tell  him  that  ?  "  Osk  inquired  quickly. 

"  No,  I  did  n't.  But  I  wish  I  had.  I  had  denied 
touching  the  cider,  or  letting  anybody  into  the 
house.  Then  when  he  said  the  cup  had  been  ta- 
ken, I  could  n't  go  back  on  my  word.  I  wish  now 
I  had,"  Gid  repeated,  with  bitter  self-reproach. 

He  related  all  that  had  happened  in  his  inter- 
view with  Fred,  and  again  charged  Osk  with  the 
robbery.  Osk  laughed  scornfully. 

"  The  idea  of  my  doing  such  a  thing  as  that ! " 
he  exclaimed.  "  You  don't  really  think  I  did,  Gid 
Ketterell.  For  my  part,"  he  went  on,  without  list- 
ening to  Gid's  indignant  protestation,  "  I  don't  be- 
lieve the  cup  has  been  stolen.  I  don't  take  any 
stock  in  that  story.  Fred  Melverton  is  bluffing 
you.  He  took  it  out  of  the  drawer  himself,  to 


118  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

give  you  a  good  scare,  after  he  found  out  about 
the  cider." 

"You  think  so?"  Grid  replied,  shaken  by  the 
plausible  argument,  and  grasping  at  that  straw 
of  hope. 

"  No  doubt  of  it,"  said  Osk.  "  Fred  says  to  him- 
self, he  says,  '  Two  bottles  of  cider  gone,'  he  says ; 
4  he  's  had  somebody  in  the  house,  and  now  I  '11 
teach  him  a  lesson.'  See  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't  see ! "  Grid  muttered.  He  was,  how- 
ever, more  than  half  convinced  that  Osk  was  right, 
and  he  wished  to  be  wholly  convinced.  "I  don't  be- 
lieve he  'd  have  made  a  fuss  about  the  cider,  if  that 
had  been  all  he  missed;  he  ain't  that  kind  of  a  chap. 
Anyhow,  it 's  all  through  you  I  've  lost  the  place." 

"  You  '11  get  taken  back  again,"  Osk  assured  him. 
"Only  stick  to  your  story,  and  soon  as  he  sees 
you  're  not  to  be  beat  out  of  it,  he  '11  conclude  he  's 
in  the  wrong." 

"The  cup  is  all  I  care  for,"  Grid  murmured,  his 
anger  fast  giving  way  before  the  wily  influence  of 
his  betrayer.  "If  I  could  only  think  it  was  the 
way  you  say ! " 

"  I  '11  bet  my  life  on  it !  "  Osk  declared.  "Keep 
still  about  it,  and  you  never  '11  hear  from  it  again. 
As  for  the  place,  I  'm  sorry ;  but  even  if  you  don't 


OSK  ORDWAY'S  LITTLE  FINGER  119 

go  back,  you  '11  have  a  better  time  this  summer 
than  if  you  'd  kept  it ;  you  'd  have  soon  got  sick 
of  aU  that." 

"  I  suppose  I  should,"  Grid  admitted ;  "  but  what 
will  my  mother  say  when  she  knows  ?  " 

u  She  need  n't  know,"  said  Osk.  "  You  can  go 
off  every  day  just  as  if  you  were  going  to  Melver- 
ton's,  and  have  all  your  time  to  yourself.  Would  n't 
she  like  some  of  these  fish  !  I  '11  give  you  some  to 
carry  home ;  they  '11  please  her,  and  keep  her  from 
noticing  anything  strange  in  your  looks.  Then 
I  've  got  some  schemes  to  let  you  into.  You  know 
we  've  always  had  good  times  together,  Grid." 

"  But  why  did  you  talk  about  me  that  way  to 
Dord  Oliver  ?  "  said  Gid,  with  a  last  feeble  flaming 
up  of  his  waning  resentment.  "You  told  him 
about  my  showing  the  cup." 

"I  never  mentioned  the  cup!  It  was  all  talk, 
anyway ;  a  fellow  must  say  something.  You  know, 
you  and  I  are  always  good  cronies,"  said  Osk,  com- 
pleting again  the  process,  which  he  had  boasted 
was  so  easy,  of  winding  Grid  around  his  little  finger. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

TKACY  LISLE  AND  DOKD  OLIVER 


RACY  LISLE  entered  upon  his  new 
duties  with  a  satisfaction  to  which 
a  feeling  of  triumph  over  Gideon 
gave  a  peculiar  zest.  He  laughed 
as  he  handled  the  hose  with  which 
Midget  had  been  sprinkled  and  he  himself  had 
been  threatened,  saying  to  himself : 

"  He  told  me  never  to  set  foot  on  these  grounds 
as  long  as  he  was  in  charge;  and  I  said,  'You 
won't  always  be  in  charge.' " 

He  wondered  a  little  that  the  prophecy  had  so 
unexpectedly  come  true.  Meanwhile  it  was  a  pure 
delight  to  see  Midget  playing  about  the  place,  free 
and  happy,  and  enjoying,  in  his  own  silent  way, 
the  new  order  of  things.  The  child,  who  had 
always  been  accustomed  to  run  in  and  out  of  the 
house  at  pleasure  when  the  Melvertons  were  at 
home,  would  have  taken  similar  liberties  in  their 


120 


TEACY  LISLE  AND  DOBD  OLIVER  121 

absence  if  Tracy  had  not  rigorously  kept  him 
out. 

So,  before  going  in  himself  that  afternoon  to 
close  the  windows  and  pull  down  the  shades,  he 
sent  the  little  deaf-mute  home,  promising  to  follow 
soon.  He  had  carefully  put  everything  in  order, 
and  was  about  lowering  the  shade  of  a  back  cham- 
ber window,  when  he  saw  something  like  a  human 
figure  moving  behind  the  vines  of  the  trellis  framed 
against  the  side  of  the  barn. 

"Why,  is  that  Midget?"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  Has  n't  he  gone  home  yet  f  " 

But  it  was  n't  Midget ;  a  much  larger  form  ap- 
peared at  an  opening  of  the  vines,  a  head  nodded, 
and  a  hand  made  signs  to  Tracy. 

"  It  's  George  Oliver ! "  he  said.  "  What  can  he 
want  of  me  ? " 

The  two  boys  were  about  the  same  age,  and  were 
on  good  terms  enough,  but  not  so  intimate  as  they 
had  once  been,  the  Oliver  boy  consorting  too  much 
with  the  idle  and  reckless  sort  to  be,  in  Mrs.  Lisle's 
opinion,  a  fit  companion  for  her  precious  son ;  in 
the  opinion  also,  we  may  add,  of  the  precious  son 
himself. 

"  He  never  would  have  come  here  for  me,"  Tracy 
reflected.  "  He  must  think  Grid  Ketterell  is  still  in 


122  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

charge;  he  is  after  Grid," — his  conclusion  being 
that  George  Oliver  had  seen,  but  had  not  recog- 
nized, him  through  the  window.  "I  ?11  ask  what 
he  wants,  and  maybe  find  out  something  else;" 
for  he  had  been  all  the  afternoon  in  a  study  as  to 
which  of  the  associates  of  Gid  and  Osk  he  should 
approach  in  order  to  follow  up  the  clue  given  him 
by  Mr.  Walworth. 

He  was  undoubtedly  right  as  to  George  Oliver's 
object  in  visiting  the  place.  George  appeared  very 
much  surprised  to  see  Tracy  coming  out  of  the 
back  door  presently,  locking  it,  and  walking  straight 
to  the  trellis. 

"Hello,  Dord!"  said  Tracy,  smiling  diplomati- 
cally. 

Young  Oliver  had  at  first  thought  of  taking  him- 
self unceremoniously  out  of  the  way;  but  though 
he  might  easily  have  avoided  an  interview,  there 
was  not  time  for  him  to  escape  recognition.  So  he 
concluded  to  remain  and  face  Master  Lisle  with  as 
confident  an  air  as  he  could  assume  upon  short 
notice. 

"  Hello,  Tracy ! "  he  replied,  smiling  in  his  turn, 
but  somewhat  glassily.  "I  did  n't  know  it  was  you." 

"Well,  it  happens  to  be,"  said  Tracy,  with  en- 
gaging suavity.  "Sorry  I  'm  not  the  one  you 
wanted." 


TEACY  LISLE  AND  DOED  OLIVEE  123 

"  That  's  of  no  consequence,"  Dord  replied.  "  I 
thought  Gid  Ketterell  —  " 

"  Gid  went  off  some  little  time  ago.  Can't  you 
make  use  of  me  in  his  place  1 "  said  Tracy.  "  You 
know  you  and  I  used  to  be  pretty  good  friends, 
Dord." 

"  Yes ;  I  always  did  like  you,  Tracy,"  Dord  an- 
swered honestly,  pleased  at  the  turn  the  talk  was 
taking.  "  We  don't  see  much  of  each  other,  lately, 
though." 

"No,"  said  Tracy;  "and  I  wonder  whose  fault 
it  is." 

Poor  as  the  Lisles  were,  since  the  minister's 
death,  they  stood  high  in  the  respect  of  the  village 
people,  and  likewise  in  their  own  esteem.  Tracy, 
as  he  grew  up,  saw  more  and  more  the  propriety — 
insisted  on  by  his  mother  —  of  keeping  a  certain 
class  of  boys  at  a  distance.  This  independence  on 
his  part  they  resented  by  calling  him  "  stuck-up  " 
and  "  big-feeling."  They  might  have  conceded  his 
right  to  keep  apart  from  them  if  the  Lisles  had 
been  wealthy,  like  the  Melvertons ;  but  as  it  was, 
his  assumption  of  superiority  was  deemed  offensive. 

"  I  don't  see  how  it  can  be  my  fault,"  said  Dord. 
Then,  in  a  burst  of  candor,  u  Fact  is,  Tracy,  I  have 
n't  thought  I  was  quite  'ristocratic  enough  for  you." 


124  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

As  he  said  this  he  turned  very  red,  and  looked 
as  if  he  feared  he  had  wounded  Tracy's  sensibili- 
ties. Tracy  colored,  too,  but  maintained  his  smil- 
ing countenance.  All  this  time  they  stood  within 
the  vine-covered  trellis,  with  the  afternoon  sun- 
shine slanting  in,  and  flickering  upon  them  through 
the  leaves. 

"  I  'm  glad  you  spoke  so  plainly,  George,"  Tracy 
replied,  without  betraying  the  least  resentment. 
"  For  now  perhaps  we  can  come  to  a  better  under- 
standing. I  am  aristocratic,  in  one  sense.  But  you 
know  it  is  n't  because  I  have  money,  or  dress  par- 
ticularly well,  or  —  " 

"  I  know  that,"  Dord  hastened  to  admit,  with  an 
air  of  apology.  "  Money  and  good  clothes  have  n't 
much  to  do  with  it." 

"What  has,  then?  Come,  Dord!"  said  Tracy. 
"  Speak  right  out !  I  '11  promise  you  that  I  sha'n't 
be  offended." 

Leaning  an  elbow  in  a  diamond  of  the  trellis, 
and  resting  on  one  foot,  with  the  other  thrown  up 
carelessly  on  the  toe  behind  it,  he  regarded  Dord 
ingratiatingly.  Dord  stood  before  him,  with  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  his  eyes  cast  down,  and  his 
russet  cheeks  drawn  with  a  grin  of  comical  em- 
barrassment. 


. 


"'COME,  DORD!'  SAID  TRACY.     'SPEAK  RIGHT  OUT!'" 


TEACY  LISLE  AND  DORD  OLIVER  127 

"  You  don't  dare  tell  me ! "  Tracy  urged  coax- 
ingly.  "  Come,  Dord ! " 

After  a  pause  Dord  lifted  his  eyes  and,  looking 
straight  into  Tracy's  with  a  frank  expression, 
replied : 

"You  're  a  better  fellow  than  the  rest  of  us; 
that  's  just  where  it  is,  Tracy.  You  're  a  better 
fellow  than  the  rest  of  us." 

Tracy  was  touched ;  his  brave  blue  eyes  glistened 
as  he  answered : 

"  Oh,  now,  see  here,  Dord,  what  do  you  mean  by 
that  f  I  'm  no  such  good  fellow  as  you  think.  I  've 
got  a  high  temper,  I  can  be  as  selfish  and  jealous 
as  anybody,  and  I  'm  constantly  saying  and  doing 
things  I  'm  ashamed  of,  or  sorry  for,  afterward." 

"If  you  were  pretty  mean  you  would  n't  be 
ashamed  of  'em,"  Dord  suggested,  with  a  shy  look 
out  of  the  corner  of  his  eyes. 

"  Something  in  that ! "  said  Tracy,  with  a  gay 
little  laugh.  "But  what  I  'm  coming  to  is  this. 
"  It 's  the  good  heart  that  makes  one  fellow  really 
better  than  another;  and  there  is  n't  a  better- 
hearted  boy  in  town  than  you,  Dord  Oliver !  There 
is  n't  one  I  'd  sooner  go  to  for  a  genuine,  down- 
right, disinterested  kindness.  Do  you  believe  it !  " 

It  was  Dord's  turn  to  feel  happy  and  grateful 


128  THE  PEIZE  CUP 

now.  He  winked  quickly  as  he  leaned  back  against 
the  trellis,  with  his  head  turned  half  away,  and 
said  in  a  low  voice : 

"  I  do  mean  right !  But  I  don't  know  how  it  is 
—  you  're  brighter  'n  the  rest  of  us;  that  's  the 
difference." 

"  Heigho  ! "  said  Tracy,  with  something  between 
a  laugh  and  a  sigh,  as  he  took  a  step  toward  him, 
across  the  overarched  space.  "' Brighter'?  You 
know  yourself,  Dord  Oliver,  that  in  school  you 
were  as  bright  at  your  lessons  as  I  was, —  when 
you  tried.  If  you  had  kept  on  and  entered  the 
high  school,  instead  of  dropping  out  as  you  did, 
you  might  be  as  far  along  as  I  am.  So  might  sev- 
eral of  the  boys,  who  got  tired  of  study,  and  im- 
agined they  had  education  enough.  Is  n't  that  so?" 

"  Maybe  't  is,"  Dord  assented,  with  a  sorry  nod. 

"  No ! "  cried  Tracy.  "  It  is  n't  that,  either,  that 
makes  me  aristocratic  —  if  I  am  aristocratic  —  and 
I  hope  I  am,  in  the  right  way.  Shall  I  tell  you 
what  it  is  ?  " 

"I  'd  like  to  know,"  Dord  replied  earnestly,  as 
Tracy  paused. 

"  It  is  because  I  try  to  make  the  best  of  myself. 
That  's  why  I  keep  away  from  boys  that  hold 
themselves  too  cheap.  I  can't  afford  to  idle  away 


TEACY  LISLE  AND  DOED  OLIVEE  129 

my  time  as  they  do,  caring  only  for  the  fun  of  the 
moment.  Something  won't  let  me.  I  must  im- 
prove my  mind  —  get  knowledge  —  prepare  myself 
for  whatever  may  be  before  me  in  life.  When  I 
read  about  great  and  noble  men,  I  can't  help  com- 
paring myself  with  them,  and  trying  to  be  like 
them.  Our  youth  is  too  precious  to  be  trifled 
away.  I  believe  in  enjoying  it  as  we  go  along, 
but  in  a  different  way  from  those  that  find  it  so 
dull  without  coarse  excitements.  If  that  is  what 
makes  me  aristocratic,"  Tracy  went  on,  "why, 
then  I  'm  glad  I  am  aristocratic." 

Dord  stared  at  him  with  astonishment  akin 
to  awe. 

"I  don't  wonder  you  keep  away  from  us,"  he 
replied. 

" Don't  you  ever  have  such  feelings?"  Tracy 
inquired. 

"Yes — I  suppose  every  fellow  has — odd  spells. 
I  only  wish  I  could  live  up  to  'em,  as  you  do ! " 
Dord  declared,  sincerely.  "But  it  's  so  much 
easier  to  go  off  and  have  a  good  time ! " 

"Yes,"  said  Tracy;  "and  the  right  kind  of  a 
good  time  is  something  I  believe  in,  too.  I  enjoy 
it  as  much  as  anybody.  But  you  fellows  want  to 
make  life  all  a  good  time.  You  've  got  to  go  to 


130  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

work  before  long,  and  you  ought  to  be  interested 
in  that  work.  Then  suppose  you  give  a  part  of 
your  leisure  to  serious  reading  and  thinking  —  say, 
an  hour  or  two  a  day;  have  you  any  idea  what  a 
difference  it  would  make  in  the  course  of  a  year? 
three  years?  ten  years?  I  think,  Dord,  if  you 
should  try  that,  you  would  begin  to  feel  *  aristo- 
cratic '  yourself ;  you  would  be  a  little  more  choice 
of  your  spare  time  and  of  the  company  you  keep." 

"  That 's  so ! "  said  the  conscience-smitten  Dord. 
"  I  guess  that 's  so." 

Then  there  was  a  long  pause,  Tracy  wondering 
how  he  should  approach  the  subject  that  was  up- 
permost in  his  mind  when  he  had  come  to  meet 
Dord. 


CHAPTER  XX 

FOLLOWING   UP  THE   "CLUE" 


were  coming  here  to  find  Grid 
Ketterell,"  Tracy  at  last  said. 

"Yes;    I  thought  it  was  about 
time   for  him   to  be  going  along 
home,  and  I  'd  go  with  him,"  Dord 
replied,  after  a  little  hesitation. 

"  You  've  been  here  for  him  before  ?  " 
"  No,  never  once." 

"  Do  you  know  of  anybody  who  has  1  "  Tracy  in- 
quired. 

"  I  don't  know  as  I  ought  to  tell,"  said  Dord  ;  for 
he,  like  almost  all  the  village  boys,  and  some  of 
their  parents  and  teachers  too,  I  regret  to  say, 
was  in  the  habit  of  saying  "don't  know  as"  for 
"don't  know  that,"  and  using  other  incorrect  ex- 
pressions of  which  fastidious  mothers  like  Mrs. 
Lisle  disapproved. 

"If  there  is  any  good  honest  reason  why  you 


131 


132  THE  PEIZE  CUP 

should  n't  tell,  don't,"  said  Tracy,  studying  him 
with  kind,  searching  eyes.  "  But  I  have  a  very 
good  and  a  very  honest  reason  for  asking  the 
question."  He  concluded  he  had  better  come 
frankly  to  the  point.  "You  can  help  me  about 
a  very  important  matter,  Dord,  if  you  will." 

"I  should  like  to  do  that,"  said  Dord. 

"  Then  tell  me  who  has  been  here  to  see  Gid." 

"  Osk  Ordway  has ;  I  don't  know  of  any  others." 

"  When  was  that  ?  "  Tracy  asked,  with  quicken- 
ing heart-beats. 

"  I  don't  know ;  just  two  or  three  days  ago." 

"What  did  he  want?" 

"Nothing  particular,  I  guess,"  Dord  answered, 
evasively. 

Tracy  thought  it  time  for  him  to  take  a  bold 
stand. 

"He  wanted  something,  and  he  got  something; 
and  you  know  it,  Dord.  And  you  wanted  some- 
thing to-day.  Was  it  cider  ?  " 

Dord  gave  a  sheepish  sort  of  laugh. 

"I  guess  there  wa'n't"  (wtfn't  for  was  n't  was 
another  of  his  incorrect  words)  "much  of  any 
cider  left." 

"  I  should  n't  suppose  there  would  be,  after  Osk 
Ordway  had  had  a  taste  of  it,"  Tracy  observed. 


FOLLOWING  UP  THE   "CLUE"  133 

"  That 's  so ! "  said  Dord.    "  I  wa'n't  after  cider." 

"What  then?  You  ought  to  tell  me,"  Tracy 
insisted. 

"Osk  told  me  Grid  would  show  me  something, 
and  I  thought  it  might  be  Fred  Melverton's  prize 
cup,"  Dord  replied.  "But  I  could  n't  make  him 
say  so." 

"  Dord ! "  Tracy  exclaimed,  "  this  is  very  impor- 
tant—  what  you  are  saying  to  me.  Now  I  am 
going  to  tell  you  something  —  a  most  astonishing 
thing  that  has  happened  —  in  strictest  confidence. 
You  won't  speak  of  it  till  I  give  you  leave." 

Dord  gave  the  required  promise,  and  listened 
wonderingly. 

"  That  prize  cup  has  been  stolen ! " 

"  It  hain't ! "  said  Dord,  not  by  way  of  contradic- 
tion, but  as  an  expression  of  his  intense  amaze- 
ment. "  Hain't "  was  another  of  his  words. 

"  You  're  a  lucky  fellow,  Dord,"  said  Tracy. 

"  I  don't  see  how  —  "  began  Dord. 

"Why,  that  you  did  n't  come  here  and  get  Grid 
to  show  you  the  cup  before  it  was  stolen.  Don't 
you  see!  You  might  have  become  an  object  of 
suspicion." 

Dord's  face  grew  flushed  and  damp. 

"  And  let  me  advise  you,"  Tracy  continued,  "  if 


134  THE  PEIZE  CUP 

you  have  any  sort  of  connection  or  understanding 
with  Osk,  to  wash  your  hands  of  it  at  once.  Just 
what  did  he  tell  you  ?  " 

"  About  the  cup  1  He  did  n't  call  it  by  name," 
Dord  replied.  "  He  only  said  Gid  had  shown  him 
something  in  the  Melverton  house,  and  that  I  could 
make  him  show  it  to  me.  That  was  all.  I  thought 
it  must  be  that;  for,  before  that,  we  had  talked 
about  Fred's  winning  the  prize." 

"  It  was  that ! "  Tracy  assured  him.  "  Osk  is 
mixed  up  in  the  business  —  the  robbery,  to  speak 
it  plainly  —  and  he  meant  to  mix  you  up." 

"  I  can't  believe  it !  I  thought  Osk  —  "  Dord  fal- 
tered incredulously. 

"  You  thought  better  of  Osk  than  that.  I  can't 
say  whether  I  did  or  not.  His  visit  to  the  house 
that  day  was  as  secret  as  possible ;  I  happen  to 
know  about  that,"  Tracy  declared,  triumphantly. 
"That  Grid  let  him  in  I  am  as  sure  as  I  am  that 
Grid  denied  it  afterwards.  Very  soon  after  that  — 
perhaps  that  very  day  —  the  cup  disappeared.  Gid 
vows  he  knows  nothing  about  it.  He  also  says  he 
knows  nothing  about  the  cider  that  was  taken." 

"Did  he  say  that?"  cried  Dord.  He  seemed 
about  to  add  more,  but  stopped,  fearing  perhaps 
he  had  already  said  things  that  might  complicate 
matters  for  Gid. 


FOLLOWING  UP  THE   "CLUE"  135 

"Don't  mince  it!"  said  Tracy.  "Did  n't  Osk 
brag  to  you  that  he  drank  cider  in  the  house? 
You  said  as  much  before." 

"  Yes,  he  did,"  Dord  was  forced  to  admit. 

"Then  what  can  we  think  of  Gid's  denials?" 
Tracy  demanded. 

"I  don't  know  what  to  think,"  Dord  replied. 
"  But  here  's  one  thing.  If  Osk  took  the  cup,  or 
knew  it  had  been  taken,  why  should  he  put  me  up 
to  come  and  ask  to  see  it  ?  " 

"  To  mix  you  up  in  it,  as  I  told  you.  Or  for  any 
other  reason.  It  does  n't  deceive  me.  And  you, 
Dord  —  candidly,  now !  —  don't  you  see  I  've  good 
reason  for  believing  Osk  took  the  cup  ? " 

"  Yes,"  Dord  avowed.  "  And  you  'd  have  a  still 
better  reason  if  you  knew  something  I  know." 

"What  's  that?"  Tracy  asked,  so  very  eagerly 
that  Dord  became  alarmed. 

"I  guess  I  'd  better  not  tell;  it  's  something  I 
had  n't  ought  to  have  mentioned." 

"How!  something  you  ought  n't  to  have  men- 
tioned ? "  Tracy  questioned,  unconsciously  correct- 
ing Dord's  language  in  repeating  it.  "  I  '11  tell  you 
this,  Dord  Oliver ;  it  's  always  better,  in  a  matter 
of  this  sort,  to  meet  it  squarely  and  make  a  clean 
record  for  yourself.  You  don't  help  a  wrong-doer 


136  THE  PEIZE  CUP 

by  keeping  back  anything  that  must  come  out; 
and  you  may  be  injuring  yourself,  you  know." 

"'T  ain't  anything  that'll  hurt  me  if  I  tell  it," 
said  Dord ;  "  and  I  don't  suppose  it  will  hurt  Osk  — 
not  if  he  's  all  right." 

"  Of  course  not !  that  ?s  the  point,"  said  Tracy. 
"  But  if  he  ought  to  be  exposed,  he  will  be ;  and 
you  don't  want  to  pass  for  one  who  has  knowingly 
covered  up  his  misdeeds.  Now  Dord ! " 

Dord  had  backed  up  against  the  trellis,  as  Tracy 
followed  and  urged  him ;  he  could  now  retreat  no 
farther,  nor  escape  in  any  direction,  Tracy  holding 
him  fast,  with  both  hands  on  his  shoulders,  and 
confronting  him  with  a  determined  smile. 

"I  'd  jest  as  lieves  tell;  I  don't  know  why  I 
should  n't,"  said -Dord.  "  Two  or  three  nights  ago 
—  Tuesday  night,  I  'm  pretty  sure  —  I  was  on  the 
street  with  the  Sweeney  boys,  when  we  saw  Osk 
come  out  of  Elkins's  orchard ;  he  got  over  the  wall 
and  started  to  cross  over  to  the  street  his  gran'sir 
lives  on." 

"I  know;  Mr.  Pudgwick  —  Maple  street,"  said 
Tracy. 

"He  was  carrying  something  under  his  coat, 
which  we  might  not  have  noticed,"  Dord  continued, 
"if  it  had  n't  bothered  him  in  getting  over  the 


FOLLOWING  UP  THE   "CLUE"  137 

wall.  Just  as  lie  was  getting  down  to  the  sidewalk, 
lie  seemed  to  see  ns  coming  around  the  corner 
by  the  harness-shop.  He  hesitated  a  little,  then 
jumped  down  and  started  to  cross  over,  as  I  said ; 
appearing  not  to  notice  us  though  it  was  bright 
moonlight." 

"  What  time  of  night  was  this  ?  "  Tracy  inquired. 

He  had  taken  his  hands  from  Dord's  shoulders, 
but  still  stood  facing  him,  listening  with  intense 
interest  to  every  word  of  his  story. 

"  A  little  after  nine ;  between  nine  and  half -past," 
replied  Dord.  "We  ran  after  Osk,  and  overtook 
him,  and  the  first  thing  Dick  Sweeney  said  was : 

" l  Hullo,  Osk !    What  ye  got  there  I ' 

"  '  There  ?    Where  f  '  says  Osk. 

" '  Under  your  coat-flap,'  says  Dick. 

"'Oh!  that?'  says  Osk.  '  That  's  a  bullhead  I 
ketched  up  here  in  the  river.' 

"'  Funny  place  to  carry  it,  under  your  coat, 
wrapped  up  in  your  handkerchief,'  Dick  says ;  for 
we  ketched  a  glimpse  of  something  white.  It  was 
only  Dick's  guess  that  it  was  a  handkerchief." 

"  What  did  he  say  to  that  ? "  Tracy  questioned 
with  excited  eagerness. 

"Something  about  a  fellow  having  a  right  to 
carry  fish  in  his  own  fashion.  Then  he  got  away 


138  THE  PKIZE  CUP 

from  us  as  soon  as  he  could ;  and  the  last  we  saw 
of  him,"  said  Dord,  "he  turned  into  his  gran'sir 
Pudgwick's  gate,  and  went  around  to  the  shed 
door." 

"And  what  did  you  boys  think  1 "  Tracy  asked. 

"We  did  n't  swallow  the  fish,"  Dord  replied, 
with  a  grin.  "  He  never  'd  have  made  such  a  mys- 
tery of  a  horned  pout  ketched  in  the  river.  But  I 
had  no  idea,  till  now,  what  it  might  really  be." 

Tracy  hurriedly  put  the  question : 

"  What 's  your  idea  now  1 " 

"  Seems  as  if  it  must  have  been  —  well,  I  'd 
ruther  not  say." 

"There  's  no  need  of  expressing  an  opinion," 
cried  Tracy,  gratified  beyond  measure.  "  Do  you 
believe  it  was  a  handkerchief  you  saw,  or  —  the 
thing  itself?" 

"  Should  n't  wonder  if  it  was  the  thing  itself," 
Dord  replied.  "'T  was  just  a  glimpse  we  got  of 
something  light-colored  under  his  dark  coat-flap." 

"  Will  the  Sweeney  boys  remember  about  it  ? " 

"  I  should  say  so !  We  talked  it  over  enough  on 
our  way  home,  after  Osk  left  us." 

Then  Dord  told  of  the  meeting  between  Grid  and 
Osk  under  the  willows. 

"  It  was  n't  what  Osk  had  been  saying  to  you, 


FOLLOWING  UP  THE   "CLUE"  139 

and  Grid  may  have  overheard,  that  made  the 
trouble,"  Tracy  declared ;  "  at  least,  not  that  alone. 
I  '11  wager  the  stolen  cup  was  at  the  bottom  of  it." 

"  'T  was  something  pretty  serious,  anyway,"  said 
Dord;  "for  Gid  appeared  awful  cut  up;  I  never 
saw  him  look  so  black." 

"  Dord,"  exclaimed  Tracy,  "  you  've  no  idea  how 
important  all  this  is.  Say  nothing  of  it  to 
anybody,  till  I  report  the  whole  thing  to  Fred 
Melverton." 

"  I  hope  I  sha'n't  get  dragged  into  any  scrape," 
said  Dord. 

"You  won't,  if  what  you  tell  me  is  true,  I 
promise  you." 

"But  I  don't  want  to  get  Osk's  ill-will,"  said 
Dord  uneasily. 

"I  know  that  won't  be  pleasant,"  said  Tracy; 
"  but  I  've  no  doubt  it  will  be  much  better  for  you 
than  his  good-will.  Osk  Ordway's  bad  influence 
over  boys  in  this  village  has  got  to  be  put  down; 
and  I  think  this  thing  is  going  to  do  it.  Now,  take 
my  advice,  Dord,"  Tracy  continued  earnestly; 
"  keep  away  from  him  and  his  gang.  As  for  Grid 
Ketterell,  you  need  n't  come  here  for  him  any 
more;  he  has  been  turned  off  on  account  of  the 
robbery." 


140  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

Dord  was  greatly  surprised.  "  His  mother  did  n't 
know.  I  stopped  at  his  house,"  he  said,  "  on  nay 
way  over,  thinking  he  might  have  gone  home 
early.  She  said  he  had  been  home  to  dinner,  and 
gone  back  again  —  that  I  would  find  him  here." 

"  Grid  seems  to  be  weaving  rather  a  tangled  web," 
Tracy  suggested, — "he  and  Osk  Ordway.  Now, 
thanks  to  you,  Dord,  I  think  I  've  a  chance  to 
unravel  it." 


CHAPTER  XXI 


TRACY'S  TELEGRAM 

BELIEVE  I  have  tracked  the  fox  to 
Ms  den." 

This  was  the  ten-word  despatch 
which  Tracy  wired  to  Fred  Melver- 
ton  that  evening;  and  it  brought 
Fred  up  from  the  seaside  again  early  the  next 
forenoon. 

Fred  was  accompanied  by  his  friend  Canton 
Quimby,  as  before ;  they  came  sailing  into  the 
Melverton  place  so  swiftly  and  silently,  on  their 
pneumatic  tires,  that  Tracy,  who  was  kneeling  in 
the  flower-beds,  was  hardly  aware  of  their  ap- 
proach until  they  sprang  off  upon  the  walk  close 
behind  him. 

He  rose  and  turned  quickly,  and  saw  them  stand- 
ing there,  radiant  with  health  and  gay  spirits,  each 
beside  his  wheel. 

"  Well,  Trace,  we  ?re  here,"  said  Melverton, 
laughing. 


141 


142  THE  PEIZE  CUP 

"  I  see  you  are ! "  Tracy  replied,  recovering  from 
his  surprise.  "You  're  not  exactly  a  pair  of 
seraphs,  but  if  you  had  dropped  down  out  of 
the  sky  you  could  n't  have  come  upon  me  more 
suddenly." 

He  stood  blushing  before  them,  handsome  but 
embarrassed,  conscious  of  fingers  soiled  from  the 
pulling  of  weeds  about  the  roots  of  the  plants,  and 
awkwardly  unpresentable  for  hand-shaking. 

"  I  never  meant  you  should  do  this  sort  of  work, 
Trace !  "  Fred  exclaimed,  leaning  his  wheel  against 
the  piazza  steps. 

"  It 's  the  one  thing  Gid  Ketterell  did  n't  do,  and 
the  one  thing  that  needs  to  be  done,"  Tracy  made 
answer.  "  Did  you  get  my  telegram  ? " 

"  Did  I  get  it !  "  echoed  Fred.  "  It  gave  me  such 
a  start,  I  nearly  upset  the  tea-table." 

And  his  friend  Canton  Quimby  added,  "  It  was 
all  I  could  do  to  keep  him  from  hopping  on  his 
bike  and  scooting  up  here  last  evening;  it  was 
only  by  promising  I  would  come  with  him  this 
morning.  We  're  fox-hunting!" 

"  That  is,  if  I  understand  just  what  you  meant 
by  the  fox,"  said  Melverton.  "  If  you  have  tracked 

fkat-~* 

"That  's  just  what  I  have  done,"  said  Tracy, 
confidently. 


TRACY'S  TELEGRAM  143 

He  went  on  to  relate,  rapidly  but  circumstan- 
tially, the  discoveries  he  had  made,  through  Mr. 
Walworth  and  G-eorge  Oliver ;  Fred  listening  with 
delighted  approval,  both  of  Tracy's  tact  in  the  af- 
fair and  of  his  shrewd  conclusions.  At  the  close, 
Canton  Quimby,  who  was  always  finding  spheres 
of  usefulness  for  his  friends,  remarked  pointedly : 

"Don't  consider  me  impertinent,  young  man, 
but  allow  me  to  inform  you  that  you  have  a  career 
before  you.  You  are  a  born  detective.  I  advise 
you  to  take  it  up  as  a  biz." 

"  Thank  you ! "  Tracy  replied  with  a  laugh,  not 
in  the  least  displeased.  "  A  little  amateur  work  is 
all  I  should  ever  care  to  do  in  that  line,  and  that 
only  to  oblige  a  friend.  I  fairly  stumbled  upon 
this,  without  much  credit  to  myself." 

"You  've  worked  it  up  with  admirable  address 
and  discretion,"  Fred  declared. 

"  But  the  fox  is  n't  caught  yet,"  Tracy  suggested, 
aglow  with  modest  pleasure. 

"  No,  but  we  '11  have  him  out  of  his  den,  I  war- 
rant ! "  said  Fred,  with  enthusiasm.  "  I  know  this 
fellow's  folks,  Osk  Ordway's  grandparents," —  turn- 
ing to  Canton  Quimby.  "Honest  old  people  as 
ever  lived.  Their  daughter  made  a  runaway 
match  —  eloped  with  a  music-teacher,  whom  they 


14:4  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

and  everybody  except  her  knew  to  be  an  unprin- 
cipled adventurer.  After  two  or  three  years  she 
came  home  with  broken  health  and  bringing  this 
boy.  She  died,  and  left  him  to  the  care  of  her 
parents.  They  have  had  no  end  of  trouble  try- 
ing to  bring  him  up  in  the  way  he  should  go." 

"And  the  boy's  father?"  Quimby  inquired. 

"  The  last  I  heard  of  him  he  was  in  trouble  for 
drawing  money  on  a  forged  check  somewhere  in 
Colorado.  He  has  never  done  anything  for  his  son's 
support.  The  boy  just  preys  upon  his  grandparents, 
who  can  neither  govern  him  nor  turn  him  out  of 
doors.  The  old  man  has  got  him  out  of  several 
bad  scrapes ;  he  vows  each  time  he  will  never  help 
him  out  of  another.  I  think  we  'd  better  lose  no 
time  in  following  up  this  trail." 

"  That  's  my  opin',"  Quimby  replied.  "  Take  it 
while  it 's  fresh." 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  go  with  you  to  find  Dord 
Oliver,  and  get  him  to  tell  his  story  to  you  ? "  Tracy 
asked. 

"  No,"  said  Fred ;  "  I  've  no  doubt  you  have  re- 
ported it  correctly.  We  can  call  him  as  a  witness 
later.  And  we  '11  leave  Gideon  for  the  present. 
Osk  Ordway  is  our  game." 

Then,  leaving  Tracy  to  await  developments,  the 


TRACY'S  TELEGRAM  145 

young  men  leaped  upon  their  wheels,  and  sped 
away  down  the  road  in  the  direction  of  the  village. 

As  they  approached  Maple  Street,  Fred  pointed 
out  to  his  companion  the  small  brown  house  where 
Osk  lived  with  his  grandparents,  and  said  to  him : 

"  Now  we  separate.  I  '11  run  down  to  the  house, 
and  get  a  chance,  if  I  can,  to  interview  the  old 
grandfather  alone ;  I  believe  I  see  him  in  his  gar- 
den. In  the  meantime,  you  ride  on  to  the  police 
headquarters,  and  lay  the  whole  thing  before  the 
chief — the  officer  I  introduced  you  to  the  other 
day." 

"  Yesterday,"  Canton  Quimby  suggested. 

"Was  it  no  longer  ago  than  that?  How  an 
exciting  event  crowds  the  sense  of  time!"  Fred 
exclaimed,  and  then  he  added,  "  I  M  better  not  be 
seen  visiting  the  police  with  you;  the  fox  might 
take  alarm." 

"  I  understand.  I  am  to  consult  the  chief,  and 
to  have  him  and  his  machinery  ready  for  emer- 
gencies," said  Quimby  in  a  business-like  way. 
"Then  what?" 

"  Then  ride  back,  and  pass  leisurely  to  and  fro 
before  the  house,  once  or  twice,  or  until  I  give  you 
a  signal.  Say  twenty  minutes  or  half  an  hour  from 
now.  I  '11  be  in  sight  somewhere." 


146  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

So  saying,  Fred  Melverton  turned  down  a  street 
that  ran  parallel  to  Maple  street,  and,  making  a 
swift  detour,  again  approached  the  house  of  the 
grandparents  from  the  other  side. 


XXII 

GKAN'SIR  PUDGWICK 

SK  ORDWAY'S  grandfather  (or 
"  gran'sir,"  as  Osk  and  others  called 
him)  was  a  house-  and  sign-painter, 
who  had  so  far  retired  from  busi- 
ness that  he  employed  his  activi- 
ties —  which  in  his  advanced  age  and  portly  con- 
dition were  not  great  —  chiefly  in  the  care  of  his 
cow  and  his  garden,  his  poultry  and  his  pigs.  He 
had  a  ponderous  person,  a  big  bald  head,  a  smooth- 
shaven  face,  and  a  three-story  chin. 

He  was  at  work  that  morning  hoeing  his  sweet 
corn  in  a  little  patch  beside  the  house,  when  young 
Mr.  Melverton  alighted  from  his  bicycle  at  the  gate, 
and  walked  toward  him. 

"  Good   morning,   Mr.   Pudgwick ! w    said   Fred, 
tracking  the  freshly  stirred  earth  between  the  rows. 
"  Your  corn  looks  well." 
"  Passable,  passable,"  said  the  old  man,  holding 


147 


148  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

his  hoe-handle  with  one  hand,  while  with  the  other 
he  lifted  his  tattered  straw  hat  —  not  to  salute  his 
visitor,  but  to  admit  the  cooling  breath  of  heaven 
to  the  dewy  expanse  of  white  scalp  which  he  un- 
covered. At  the  same  time  the  triple  chin  became 
quadruple  as  he  settled  it  on  his  immense  chest. 
"  Well  enough,"  he  added,  "  considering  who  the 
gardener  is." 

The  big  man,  by  the  way,  had  so  small  a  voice, 
that  it  seemed  as  if  there  must  have  been  a  little 
man  somewhere  inside  him  who  did  the  talking. 

"You  take  care  of  it  yourself,  I  see;  and  it 
speaks  well  for  the  gardener,"  remarked  Fred,  his 
fine  face  and  athletic  figure,  as  he  stood  there,  tall, 
handsome,  erect,  in  his  trim  bicycle  suit,  present- 
ing a  curious  contrast  to  unwieldy  old  Gran'sir 
Pudgwick,  in  his  baggy  pantaloons  and  coarse 
shirt  open  at  the  throat. 

The  piping  voice  in  the  huge  bulk  made  answer : 

"  I  do  about  all  the  taking  care  of  it  that  it  gets. 
And  I  am  seventy-six  and  scant  of  breath,  and  it 
jest  about  kills  me  to  stoop,  and  quite  kills  me  to 
get  up  again  once  I  am  down." 

There  was  a  humorous  twinkle  in  the  small  eyes 
that  looked  out  from  the  coarse  features,  as  he 
added : 


GKAN'SIR  PUDGWICK  151 

"I  don't  have  to  lift  quite  all  creation  when 
I  rise  up,  but  it  's  a  pretty  good  lump  of  it.  It 's 
some  years  since  I  got  too  heavy  to  resk  myself 
with  a  paint-pot  on  a  ladder." 

"What  does  that  strapping  grandson  of  yours 
do?"  Fred  inquired.  "I  should  think  he  would 
help  you  in  the  garden." 

u  That 's  what  any  one  would  think ;  any  one  that 
did  n't  know  him,"  replied  Gran'sir  Pudgwick. 

"Is  n't  he  any  more  industrious  than  he  used 
to  be!"  Fred  continued. 

"  Any  more  what  f "  cried  Gran'sir  Pudgwick, 
with  grimly  humorous  surprise.  "I  never  heard 
that  term  applied  to  him  in  any  degree.  The  only 
way  for  me  to  get  work  out  of  him  is  to  hire  him 
at  exorbitant  wages ;  then  he  quits  soon  as  ever  he 
gets  a  little  money  to  spend." 

Fred  had  got  the  conversation  started  in  the 
right  direction,  and  he  pursued  it. 

"He  is  entirely  dependent  on  you,  is  n't  he?" 
he  inquired. 

"That  's  the  general  impression,"  said  Gran'sir 
Pudgwick.  "I  feed  him,  lodge  him,  clothe  him; 
and  I  'ye  sent  him  to  school  as  long  as  he  could 
be  got  to  go.  But  it  seems  to  be  his  opinion  that 
J'm  dependent  on  Mm.  He  's  master  of  the  house; 


152  THE   PRIZE   CUP 

I  'm  only  his  steward,  and  I  'm  wrongfully  keeping 
back  money  that  should  be  turned  over  to  him." 

"  That  's  a  strange  condition  of  things,"  Fred 
answered.  "You  have  everything  in  your  own 
hands ;  why  don't  you  bring  him  to  terms  by 
putting  him  on  a  short  allowance  ?  Show  him 
that  you  are  master  of  the  situation." 

"I  've  threatened  it  and  I  've  tried  it.  But 
he  's  got  one  thing  you  don't  take  into  account." 

"  What  's  that  I  "  Fred  queried. 

"  A  gram'er ! "  said  the  old  man,  bringing  his 
hoe  down  beside  a  hill  of  corn  with  a  smart  slap. 

Fred  was  puzzled  to  imagine  what  advantage 
any  sort  of  a  grammar  could  be  to  a  boy  so  little 
studious  —  unless  it  were  to  throw  it ;  and  the 
whimsical  idea  occurred  to  him  that  Gran'sir 
Pudgwick  would  be  a  mark  not  easy  to  miss. 
But,  quickly  divining  the  old  man's  meaning,  he 
said  seriously : 

"His  grandmother?     She  takes  his  part?" 

"  She  does,  and  she  does  n't,"  Gran'sir  Pudgwick 
replied.  "  She  knows  him,  and  she  '11  say  as  bitter 
things  about  him  as  I  do.  He  shows  her  no  more 
respect  than  he  shows  that  cow  hitched  by  the 
chain.  His  gram'er  's  hitched  by  a  chain  and  a 
stake  druv  into  the  ground.  That  chain  and  stake 


GRAN'SIR  PUDGWICK  153 

is  her  memory  and  her  affection  for  the  boy's 
mother  —  our  beloved,  misguided,  only  daughter. 
When  it  comes  to  the  case  in  hand,  and  I  'm  de- 
termined either  to  discipline  him,  or  to  turn  him 
outdoors,  she  relents;  she  can't  break  the  chain 
nor  pull  up  the  stake.  She  says,  *  Think  of  Angie ! 
for  her  sake  ! '  and  she  forgives  everything,  though 
his  cruel  ingratitude  is  breaking  her  heart." 

The  old  gran'sir  spoke  with  an  emotion  that 
heaved  his  profound  chest.  Fred  was  moved  with 
compassion;  but  he  thought  it  time  to  introduce 
the  errand  that  had  brought  him. 

"  Where  is  he  to-day  ?  "  he  asked.  "  I  've  a  little 
business  with  that  grandson  of  yours" — all  the 
time  keeping  a  lookout  over  the  garden  fence,  for 
Canton  Quimby  on  his  wheel. 

"  Nobody  knows  where  is ;  nobody  ever  knows," 
said  G-ran'sir  Pudgwick,  fitfully  hoeing  at  a  hill  of 
corn,  then  stopping  to  talk  again.  "What  scrape 
is  he  in  now  ?  "  he  added  sharply. 

Although  he  seemed  often  to  find  relief  to  his 
wounded  affections  in  complaining  of  his  grand- 
son, he  was  seldom  willing  to  hear  others  accuse 
him.  This  morning,  however,  he  was  in  an  unu- 
sually resentful  mood ;  and  when  Fred  replied  that 
a  valuable  object  had  been  taken  from  the  Melver- 


154  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

ton  premises,  in  the  absence  of  the  family,  and 
that  he  had  reason  to  believe  Oscar  knew  what 
had  become  of  it,  Gran'sir  Pudgwick  set  up  his 
hoe  between  the  rows  of  corn,  and  exclaimed : 

"Jest  like  him!  jest  like  him.  We  '11  ferret  it 
out!  We  '11  ferret  it  out!  Was  it  anything  he 
could  carry  in  a  six-quart  pail?" 

"  Oh,  yes ;  very  conveniently,"  Fred  answered. 

"  When  was  it  taken  1 " 

"  Three  or  four  days  ago ;  probably  last  Tuesday 
night." 

"  Come  with  me ! "  said  Gran'sir  Pudgwick,  start- 
ing to  leave  the  corn-patch.  "  We  can't  talk  here." 

He  tramped  heavily  between  the  rows,  with 
Fred  at  his  side;  but  stopped  suddenly,  facing 
the  young  man,  as  he  said : 

"I  'm  afraid  he  has  got  it,  whatever  it  was. 
Wait  till  I  tell  you.  Two  or  three  mornings  ago, 
—  it  might  have  been  Wednesday  morning, —  I 
noticed  a  singular  thing.  He  went  out  afore  break- 
fast, which  he  does  n't  often  do.  Breakfast  is  a 
favorite  institution  of  his,  and  his  was  waiting  that 
morning.  His  gram'er  will  keep  his  breakfast  on 
the  stove  till  he  comes  for  it,  if  it  ain't  till  noon. 
Then  it  must  be  ready,  and  he  must  have  it  hot,  or 
there  's  a  circus ! " 


GEAN'SIE  PUDGWICK  155 

Again  the  old  gran'sir  started  to  leave  the  field, 
Fred  accompanying  him. 

"  But  —  on  that  morning,  Mr.  Pudgwick  1 " 

"  I  '11  tell  ye."  They  stopped  on  a  strip  of  sward 
beside  the  house.  "  It  was  such  an  unusual  thing 
—  his  going  out  before  he  set  down  to  his  break- 
fast, which  his  gram'er  was  hurrying  to  put  on  the 
table  —  that  I  kept  watch  of  his  movements.  He 
went  first  to  the  woodshed,  then  up  the  stairs  — 
them  outside  stairs  —  to  the  shop  —  the  old  paint- 
shop  here,  over  the  barn." 

"  I  know  the  old  shop,"  said  Fred,  casting  a  glance 
up  at  it. 

"  I  do  precious  little  work  in  it,  late  years,"  Gran'- 
sir Pudgwick  went  on;  "but  once  in  a  while  a 
small  job  comes  in,  and  I  still  use  it  as  a  shop, 
though  sometimes  I  don't  get  up  them  stairs  once 
a  week.  He  uses  it  more  than  I  do  —  for  traps, 
fishing-gear,  and  such  like." 

"  Well,  about  that  morning  1 "  Fred  urged. 

"If  he  has  taken  anything  from  your  place  he 
had  no  business  with,  I  ain't  going  to  shield  him," 
Gran'sir  Pudgwick  went  on,  as  they  walked  toward 
the  outside  stairs.  "He  was  absent  some  little 
time  in  the  shop,  then  he  comes  back  to  the  wood- 
shed, and  gets  a  six-quart  tin-pail,  which  he  carries 


156  THE  PKIZE   CUP 

up  to  the  shop,  with  the  cover  on.  All  the  time 
I  was  pretending  to  read  my  newspaper  by  the 
kitchen  window.  He  was  gone  about  as  long  as 
before ;  then  bimeby  he  comes  out  of  the  shop,  and 
down  the  stairs,  without  the  tin-pail,  and  comes 
into  the  house,  to  be  scolded  by  his  gram'er,  and  to 
scold  back,  'cause  his  breakfast  was  n't  served  hot, 
as  if  he  lived  in  a  hotel." 

"  Can  I  see  that  pail  ? "  Fred  Melverton  asked. 

"  I  guess  we  can  find  it,"  the  old  man  made  an- 
swer, as  he  began  his  slow  and  laborious  ascent  of 
the  stairs,  with  his  hand  on  the  rail. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE   OLD   PAINT   SHOP 

UST  then  Canton  Quimby  glided  by 
on  his  wheel,  and  received  a  signal 
from  Fred,  who  was  patiently  fol- 
lowing the  ponderous  Pudgwick  up 
|  the  steep  flight.  The  old  man  car- 
ried a  key  he  had  taken  from  some  projection  un- 
der the  stairway ;  with  this  he  unlocked  the  shop- 
door,  and  entering,  sank  down,  gasping  for  breath, 
upon  the  nearest  stool. 

The  place  had  a  littered  and  desolate  look  with 
its  empty  paint-buckets,  paint-kegs,  and  oil-cans 
cluttering  one  end  of  the  room;  old  sign-boards 
stood  in  a  corner;  there  were  paint-smeared  tres- 
tles and  planks,  and  rubbish  of  various  sorts  on 
the  paint-spattered  floor. 

On  one  of  the  trestle-supported  planks  was  a  tin 
pail,  which  Gran'sir  Pudgwick  pointed  out  as  the 
one  in  question. 


157 


158  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

"  I  hain't  never  looked  into  it,"  he  said ;  "  but  you 
can.  I  'm  afraid,  though,  since  it  is  left  out  in 
plain  sight  so,  you  won't  find  what  you  're  looking 
for,  inside  on  't." 

Nevertheless,  Fred  hastened  to  lift  the  cover,  and 
found  the  pail  empty. 

"  I  expected  it,"  he  said.  "  You  say  Oscar  came 
up  into  the  shop  twice  that  morning :  the  first  time 
without  bringing  the  pail.  No  doubt  that  was  a 
visit  of  exploration ;  he  was  looking  for  a  safe  hid- 
ing-place for  his  booty.  That  is  still,  probably, 
somewhere  in  this  room,  unless  he  has  since  taken 
it  away." 

"  I  don't  think  he  has,"  Gran'sir  Pudgwick  replied. 
"  For  I  've  reason  to  think  it  is  still  here." 

Fred  was  eager  to  learn  that  reason. 

"  He  has  brought  fellows  in  to  see  it,"  said  the 
old  man. 

"That  's  interesting!"  Melverton  exclaimed. 
"What  fellows?" 

"  That  young  Allston ;  he  was  the  first.  He  was 
here  two  evenings  ago." 

"  Winthrop  Allston !  I  thought  he  had  a  place 
in  the  city. 

"  Yes,  he  has,  in  a  jeweler's  store,"  said  the  old 
man.  "Comes  out  here,  though,  pretty  often,  in 


THE   OLD  PAINT  SHOP  159 

summer.  I  believe  my  gran'son  sent  for  him.  You 
see,  I  ?m  telling  you  everything  I  know;  for  if 
there  's  anything  crooked,  I  >m  bound  to  help  you 
straighten  it." 

"  I  >m  greatly  obliged  to  you ! "  Fred  exclaimed. 
"What  you  say  astonishes  me!  In  a  jeweler's 
store  ?  And  Oscar  sent  for  him  1 " 

"  I  saw  a  letter  addressed  to  him,  on  my  gran'- 
son's  table,  the  morning  before  Allston  came,"  said 
Gran'sir  Pudgwick. 

Fred  Melverton,  keeping  a  lookout  for  Canton 
Quimby,  had  gone  over  and  stationed  himself  by  a 
window.  He  now  asked  permission  to  open  it. 

"  The  air  is  close  here,"  he  said. 

"  Certain,  certain;  do  anything  you  like." 

Fred  opened  the  window,  and  stood  by  it  until 
he  had  an  opportunity  to  make  another  signal  to 
Canton  Quimby,  repassing  on  his  bicycle.  Mean- 
while he  remarked : 

"I  always  thought  Wint  Allston  was  a  pretty 
decent  sort  of  fellow." 

"  Why  not  I "  retorted  the  old  man.  "  My  gran'- 
son  goes  with  decent  fellows,  when  he  's  a-mind  to. 
I  buy  good  clothes  for  him ;  and,  see  him  dressed 
up,  you  'd  say  he  might  be  a  ornament  to  society, 
if  he  chose.  Polite  1  he  can  be  as  polite  as  a  basket 


10 


160  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

of  chips  to  anybody  but  his  gram'er  and  me.  From 
something  I  overheard,  as  they  went  ont  of  the 
yard  together,  he  seemed  to  be  making  some  sort 
of  a  bargain  with  Winthrop." 

"  I  see ! "  Fred  replied,  mentally  making  swift 
combinations  of  all  the  accumulating  circumstances 
in  the  case.  "  You  're  sure  Winthrop  did  n't  carry 
the  thing  away  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  without 't  was  something  he  could  carry 
in  his  pockets.  Besides,"  said  Gran'sir  Pudgwick, 
"  Oscar  has  had  fellows  here  since :  to  show  it  to 
'em,  I  judged.  At  all  events,  he  had  some  mys- 
terious business  with  'em,  up  here  in  the  shop  — 
Tom  Hatch  yesterday  forenoon ;  and  that  Ketterell 
whelp  in  the  evening.  Never  more  than  one  at  a 
time." 

"Gideon  Ketterell !"  Fred  exclaimed.  "He  is 
in  it,  then,  after  all !  " 

"  I  judge  so,"  said  the  old  man.  "  As  my  gran'- 
son  went  away  with  him,  I  heard  him  say,  '  You 
can't  complain  but  what  that  's  fair,  if  I  give  you 
half.'  Seemed  as  if  there  'd  been  some  sort  of 
trouble  between  'em,  and  Oscar  was  coaxing  him 
around.  He  's  a  master-hand  to  coax,  as  he  is  to 
bully ;  good  at  one  as  t'  other." 

Fred  Melverton  stepped  forward  in  front  of  the 


THE  OLD  PAINT  SHOP  161 

fat  old  gran'sir  on  the  stool,  nursing  his  series  of 
chins,  and  said  earnestly : 

"With  your  consent,  Mr.  Pudgwick,  I  wish  to 
make  a  thorough  search  of  these  premises." 

"  Certain,"  said  the  old  man.  "  As  I  said  before, 
do  anything  you  like.  I  never  shielded  my  gran'- 
son  in  wrong-doing,  and  never  will." 

"  We  all  know  you  to  be  a  thoroughly  upright 
man,"  said  Melverton.  "  I  shall  need  some  help ; 
and  to  have  everything  regular,  I  have  called  in 
Mr.  Hazel." 

"  Chief  of  Police? "  the  old  man  looked  up,  some- 
what startled.  "  Is  it  so  serious  ?  " 

"If  we  find  nothing  it  won't  be  serious  at  all," 
Fred  replied.  "If  we  do  find  what  I  am  in  search 
of,  it  will  be  well  to  have  an  officer  at  hand.  I 
have  relied  upon  your  good-will  to  enable  us  to 
dispense  with  a  search-warrant." 

"  Certain,  certain,"  said  Gran'sir  Pudgwick,  firmly. 
"If  you  can  unearth  anything  of  yours  on  my 
premises,  I  am  not  the  man  to  hender  you.  Good 
morning,  Mr.  Hazel ! "  as  the  Chief  of  Police,  in 
citizen's  dress,  just  then  entered  the  shop,  followed 
by  Canton  Quimby. 

In  a  few  words  Fred  Melverton  explained  the 
situation  to  the  new  comers.  The  first  thing  Chief 


162  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

Hazel  did,  was  to  go  and  look  into  the  empty  pail. 
Canton  Quimby  also  looked  into  it,  in  his  turn; 
going  so  far  as  to  hold  it  upside  down,  and  rap  the 
bottom  with  his  knuckles.  As  he  did  this  with  a 
droll  smile,  Fred,  who  thought  he  was  burlesquing 
the  officer,  tried  to  look  grave,  but  failed. 

Then  the  three  held  a  consultation,  while  they 
made  a  general  survey  of  the  room. 

"  You  hain't  told  me  yet  what  you  're  hunting 
for,"  observed  Gran'sir  Pudgwick. 

"  If  we  don't  find  it  there  's  no  need  of  mention- 
ing it;  if  we  do,  you  will  see  it  with  your  own 
eyes,"  Fred  replied. 

"  We  '11  begin  here  in  the  corner,  and  go  through 
everything,"  said  Chief  Hazel;  "look  into  every 
bucket  and  tub  as  we  turn  'em  over,  and  set  'em 
out  from  the  wall." 

He  did  the  most  of  the  overturning ;  Fred  and 
his  friend  watching  to  see  that  the  search  was 
thorough,  and  offering  suggestions. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 


OSK  OFFEKS   TO  ASSIST  IN  THE   SEAKCH 


HERE  was  in  the  room  an  air-tight 
stove  which  particularly  attracted 
Canton  Quimby's  attention.  But 
though  he  explored  it  so  far  as  to 
thrust  a  hand,  and  afterward  his 
face,  into  it,  and  to  poke  a  stick  in  the  ashes  and 
up  into  the  stove-pipe,  he  made  no  discoveries. 

As  the  search  progressed  and  gradually  became 
narrowed  down  to  some  unpromising  rubbish,  the 
light  of  expectation  faded  from  Melverton's  face, 
and  he  began  to  walk  about,  looking  dubiously  at 
the  floor. 

"  We  may  have  to  pull  up  a  loose  board  or  two," 
he  said. 

"  That 's  right ;  rip  'em  up  ! "  cried  the  old  gran'- 
sir.    "  Tear  the  shop  down,  if  that  will  satisfy  you." 
He  was  evidently  growing  sceptical,  and  there 
was  a  tone  of  sarcasm  in  his  speech. 


163 


164  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

"  I  don't  think  that  will  be  necessary,"  the  young 
man  replied  calmly.  "We  '11  try  to  leave  every- 
thing in  as  good  shape  as  we  find  it.  See  a  mov- 
able board  anywhere,  Canton  1 " 

And  Canton  Quimby  murmured  in  his  ear : 

"  I  'm  afraid  we  're  barking  at  the  wrong  hole  for 
your  fox.  That  old  heavy-weight  is  too  willing. 
He  's  leading  us  on  a  false  scent." 

"  Think  so! "  And  Fred  gave  a  keen  but  puzzled 
look  at  the  old  man,  who  sat  fanning  himself  with 
his  tattered  hat. 

"  There  's  craft  in  that  colossal  turnip-head,"  his 
friend  whispered.  "I  can  see  the  cunning  in  his 
eyes.  He  's  shaking  inside  now,  with  a  small 
earthquake  of  fun,  to  think  how  he  has  bamboozled 
you." 

"  I  can't  think  it,"  said  Melverton,  although  there 
was  indeed  a  gleam  of  something  like  triumph  in 
the  broad  Pudgwick  visage.  "  Anyhow,  I  'in  not 
going  to  give  it  up  yet.  If  we  don't  find  it  here, 
we  '11  look  in  the  barn  below." 

"  Here  's  somebody  that  can  help  you,"  called  out 
the  old  man,  as  his  grandson  bounced  into  the 
room. 

Having  seen  moving  figures  through  the  win- 
dows from  below,  and  noticed  the  two  bicycles  at 


OSK  OFFERS  TO  ASSIST  IN  THE  SEARCH         165 

the  gate,  Osk  had  mounted  the  stairs  two  steps  at 
a  time,  and  hurried  in  to  see  what  was  going  on  in 
the  old  shop.  At  sight  of  Chief  Hazel  and  the  two 
young  men,  he  stopped  and  stared. 

"  Why,  I  did  n't  know  you  had  company,  gran'- 
sir ! "  he  said,  with  a  forced  laugh. 

"  Well,  I  have,  and  I  'm  glad  you  've  come  to  help 
entertain  'em,"  replied  the  gran'sir,  tartly. 

"What  's  the  powwow?"  Osk  inquired,  with  a 
brazen  attempt  to  conceal  his  manifest  embarrass- 
ment. "Think  of  buying  out  gran'sir's  shop?"  he 
demanded  impudently  of  Fred.  "Groing  into  the 
house-and-sign  painting  business  1 " 

"  Not  while  he  has  so  industrious  a  grandson  to 
succeed  him,"  Fred  answered. 

"  Grood !  a  first-rate  hit ! "  said  Osk,  with  a  ner- 
vous chuckle.  "  I  owe  you  one ! " 

"  Perhaps  it  will  turn  out  that  you  owe  me  more 
than  one,"  Melverton  replied,  without  a  smile.  "  I 
miss  something  from  our  place,  and  we  have  come 
here  to  look  for  it." 

"  Here  !  "  said  Osk,  with  an  appearance  of  great 
surprise.  "Perhaps  I  can  help  you;  only  I  can't 
conceive  what  you  're  talking  about." 

"Oscar!"  said  the  old  man,  sternly,  "if  you 
know  what 's  good  for  yourself,  tell  a  straight  story. 


166  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

What  did  you  bring  up  here  from  the  woodshed  in 
that  tin  pail  three  mornings  ago  1 " 

"  That  pail  1  I  don't  remember.  Oh,  yes  ! "  said 
Osk,  his  pretense  of  bewilderment  giving  way  to  a 
very  natural  laugh.  "I  was  going  a-fishing,  or 
thought  I  was ;  and  I  had  a  pail  for  my  lines  and 
things,  and  to  get  my  live  bait  in.  But  I  did 
n't  go." 

"  Now  let  me  ask  you  a  question,"  said  Fred. 

"  Ask  away ! "  returned  Osk,  with  gay  audacity. 

"  Then  please  tell  me, — what  did  you  bring  home 
under  your  coat-flap  the  night  before,  when  some 
boys  saw  you  come  out  of  Elkins's  orchard  and  get 
over  the  wall  ?  " 

Osk's  assurance  was  shaken  for  a  moment.  But 
he  rallied  quickly. 

"The  night  before?  Why,  nothing  —  did  —  I ! 
Oh,  I  know  what  you  're  driving  at!" — another 
laugh.  "  I  had  a  horn'  pout ;  'but  it  was  n't  under 
my  coat,  not  very  much !  " 

"  Was  it  a  white  one  ? "  Fred  asked. 

"A  white  horn'  pout!"  Osk  smiled  at  the  fan- 
tastic suggestion.  "I  see  what  you  mean.  I  had 
him  in  my  handkerchief.  I  had  just  ketched  him 
out  of  the  river.  You  can  ketch  'em  only  at 
night." 


OSK  OFFERS  TO  ASSIST  IN  THE   SEARCH         167 

"  Then  I  suppose  you  had  horned  pout  for  break- 
fast, that  morning,  Mr.  Pudgwick  I "  Fred  observed. 

"  If  I  'm  to  speak  the  truth,"  said  the  small  voice 
at  the  top  of  the  big  chin,  "there  hain't  been  a 
horn'  pout  in  my  house  this  twelvemonth." 

"Course  not,"  struck  in  the  grandson,  with  re- 
sourceful mendacity.  "  Gram'er  makes  such  a  fuss 
dressing  'em,  I  concluded  I  'd  fling  it  to  the  pigs." 

Fred  exchanged  amused  glances  with  Canton 
Quimby,  sitting  quietly  observant  on  a  trestle. 
Chief  Hazel,  who  was  all  the  time  listening  atten- 
tively, whilst  continuing  his  search,  also  smiled 
incredulously. 

"  So,"  said  Fred,  "  after  you  had  taken  the 
trouble  to  lug  it  home,  and  soiled  your  handker- 
chief by  putting  it  to  so  extraordinary  a  use,  you 
flung  your  horned  pout  to  the  pigs!" 

"Yes,  I  did,"  Osk  declared  stoutly.  "It  does 
seem  funny;  I  don't  wonder  you  laugh.  But 
when  a  fellow  ketches  a  fine  fish,  he  hates  to 
throw  him  back;  he  naturally  holds  on  to  him 
as  long  as  he  can, —  likes  to  show  him  and  brag 
about  him, —  you  know  how  it  is  yourself." 

"  But  I  have  n't  heard  that  you  showed  him  to 
the  boys  who  saw  you  getting  over  the  wall,  or 
bragging  about  him  to  them,"  said  Fred. 


168  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

A  quick  color  came  into  Osk's  habitually  un- 
blushing face. 

"  You  think  you  've  caught  me  there,"  he  replied. 
"All  right!  A  fellow  '11  take  the  trouble  to  brag 
to  some,  and  not  to  others.  If  you  don't  believe 
me,  you  '11  find  the  head  and  horns  down  there  in 
the  pig-pen  now.  Won't  he,  gran'sir  ? " 

The  old  man  gave  a  non-committal  snort,  which 
was  probably  all  that  Osk  expected. 

Fred  went  over  to  the  trestle  on  which  his  friend 
sat,  and  asked,  in  a  low  voice  : 

"  What  do  you  think,  Canton  ?  " 

"  Gas-logs  !  "  said  Quimby,  sententiously ;  from 
which  allusion  to  the  artificial  brands  that  burn 
in  some  modern  fireplaces  Fred  inferred  an  opin- 
ion not  favorable  to  Osk's  sincerity.  "  That  old 
man  with  the  Tower-of-Babel  chin  does  n't  take 
any  stock  in  his  stories,  either.  As  a  practical 
prevaricator,  he  beats  t'  other  boy  all  hollow!" 

"  I  can't  see  any  movable  boards,"  Fred  replied ; 
"and  the  chief  is  at  his  wit's  end.  Is  there  any 
use  keeping  on?" 

"  Yes,  if  only  to  go  over  the  same  ground  again," 
said  Quimby.  "  Do  something ;  on  with  the  dance ! 
I  'm  trying  to  get  behind  that  truth-destroyer's  eye." 

"Your  grandfather  has  kindly  granted  us  per- 


OSK  OFFERS  TO  ASSIST  IN  THE  SEARCH         169 

mission    to    search    the   premises,'7  Fred  said  to 
Oscar. 

"All  right!"  said  Osk,  cheerily.  "Can't  I  as- 
sist? Only  give  me  the  slightest  idea  what  you 
are  hunting  for." 


CHAPTER  XXV 


HOW  OSK    "  ASSISTED  " 

HE  floor-boards  all  seemed  to  be 
nailed  down;  the  plastered  walls 
showed  no  signs  of  a  secret  panel ; 
and  every  object  in  the  room  had 
been  examined.  Chief  Hazel  stood 
with  his  hands  behind  him,  evidently  convinced  of 
the  uselessness  of  further  investigation. 

Canton  Quimby  stepped  forward,  and  looked 
carefully  along  the  edge  of  the  floor,  behind  the 
stove. 

"Look  here,  Melf!"  and  he  called  his  friend's 
attention  to  some  flakes  of  soot,  under  the  end 
of  the  funnel,  where  it  entered  the  chimney.    "  You 
know  the  rule  in  whist?" 
"What  rule?"  Fred  asked. 
"Follow  soot!" 
"You  think  —  ?" 
"  I  'm  sure ! "  his  friend  declared.     "  Twice  I  've 


170 


HOW  OSK   "ASSISTED"  171 

seen  that  inventor  of  fables  cast  curiously  anxious 
glances  at  the  top-joint  of  the  funnel.  That  called 
my  attention  to  it.  It  has  been  taken  out  of 
the  chimney  quite  lately;  you  see  this  soot  is 
fresh." 

He  turned  a  sudden  look  on  the  grandson,  who 
was  watching  them  with  a  strangely  intent  ex- 
pression. 

"We  '11  have  it  down,"  Fred  exclaimed  aloud, 
and  called  Chief  Hazel  to  his  side. 

While  they  were  in  consultation,  Osk  stepped 
smartly  forward. 

"That  stove-pipe?  want  it  down?"  said  he, 
"That  's  easy.  I  had  it  down  only  a  short  time 
ago,  to  clean  it.  I  '11  show  you." 

There  was  an  upright  stretch  of  pipe  from  the 
stove  to  an  elbow,  which  connected  with  a  short 
joint  that  entered  the  thimble,  about  seven  feet 
from  the  floor.  Canton  Quimby,  who  had  previ- 
ously examined  the  stove  and  sounded  the  upright 
piece,  w#s  firmly  convinced  that  the  short  joint 
would  reveal  something;  nor  was  he  to  be  de- 
ceived by  Osk's  obliging  offer  of  assistance. 

Chief  Hazel  was  slow  to  take  in  the  situation. 
Fred  started  to  bring  a  box  for  him  to  mount 
upon  ;  but  before  he  could  get  it  in  place,  Osk  had 


172  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

set  a  stool  at  the  other  side  of  the  stove,  stepped 
up  on  it,  and,  with  a  fragment  of  newspaper  in  his 
hand,  had  seized  the  pipe  near  its  junction  with 
the  chimney. 

"  I  know  just  how  it  goes ;  I  '11  have  it  down  for 
you  in  a  second,"  he  said,  as  he  began  to  wrench 
the  short  horizontal  piece,  working  it  out  of  the 
thimble.  "  Here  it  comes ! "  He  exposed  the  end, 
and  slipped  his  newspaper  over  the  sooty  edge. 
"  Now  take  care  of  the  lower  part,  and  the  stove ! " 
he  cried,  making  a  show  of  tumbling  the  whole 
thing  to  the  floor. 

"  Look  out  there ! "  Canton  Quimby  shouted. 

He  was  not  assisting,  but  he  kept  careful  watch 
of  every  movement.  He  meant  to  call  attention  to 
what  Osk  was  doing ;  but  the  outcry  only  caused 
Chief  Hazel  to  look  more  closely  to  his  own  man- 
agement of  the  lower  part  of  the  funnel. 

Osk  seized  the  opportunity  to  thrust  his  hand 
into  the  short  section,  reach  some  object,  sweep  it 
swiftly  into  the  opening  of  the  chimney,  and  drop 
it  down  the  flue. 

"Did  you  see  that?"  cried  Quimby,  springing 
eagerly  forward. 

Fred  Melverton  had  looked  up  in  time  to  detect 
the  trick. 


HOW  OSK   "ASSISTED"  175 

"I  saw  something  wrapped  in  a  newspaper  go 
into  the  chimney ! "  he  answered,  excitedly. 

"Did  you?"  said  Osk.  "You  saw  the  piece  of 
newspaper  I  was  handling  the  pipe  with.  A  draft  of 
air  sucked  it  in.  Smutched  my  fingers  after  all ! " 

"  Young  man,"  said  Canton  Quimby,  in  gleeful 
earnest,  "  you  have  talents  of  a  high  order.  Put  to 
some  useful  purpose,  they  would  insure  you  a 
brilliant  career.  But  they  won't  serve  your  turn 
here.  Hand  down  that  pipe ! " 

"Anything  else!"  Osk  inquired,  impudently. 

The  funnel  was  brought  to  the  floor;  and 
Quimby,  tipping  and  turning  it,  shook  out  Osk's 
fragment  of  newspaper,  which  had  not  been  sucked 
into  the  flue. 

"Well!  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?'' 
said  Osk,  his  short,  hooked  nose  thrust  forward, 
and  his  eyes  sparkling  insolent  defiance. 

"  Since  you  have  answered  some  of  my  questions, 
I  '11  answer  yours  —  and  more  truthfully,"  Fred 
Melverton  replied,  with  an  air  of  quiet  determina- 
tion. "I  'm  going  to  explore  the  flue  to  the 
bottom;  get  a  mason  to  knock  out  the  lower 
bricks,  if  there  's  no  opening  below ;  and,  in  the 
.meantime,  I  'm  going  to  ask  Chief  Hazel  to  take 
charge  of  you." 


176  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

"  All  right,"  said  Osk  promptly.  "  That  's  just 
what  I  'd  do  in  your  place.  But  you  '11  find  you  're 
very  much  mistaken  as  to  the  thing  that  went 
down  the  chimney;  and,  what  's  more,  I  can 
prove  it." 

"No  doubt,  you  can  prove  almost  anything,  if 
you  have  the  chance,"  said  Melverton.  "It  's  to 
keep  you  from  having  chances  that  I  ask  the  chief 
to  take  care  of  you.  I  '11  go  with  you  to  Judge 
Carter's  office,  Mr.  Hazel,  and  enter  my  complaint." 

"  Gran'sir,"  said  Osk,  with  cool  assurance,  "  will 
you  come  along,  too,  and  be  my  bail  ? " 

"  No,  I  won't ! "  the  old  man  exclaimed,  fuming 
with  wrath  and  indignation.  "I  've  stood  your 
bail  and  paid  your  fines  too  often.  Now  if  you  've 
got  into  a  worse  scrape  than  common,  you  may  get 
out  of  it  without  any  help  from  me." 

"All  right,  gran'sir,"  said  Osk,  cheerfully.  "It 
won't  be  the  first  time  I  've  been  in  the  lock-up ; 
but  I  never  stayed  long.  Just  let  me  bid  gram'er 
good  by,"  —  as  the  chief  laid  a  hand  on  his 
shoulder. 

"  I  '11  see  that  this  room  is  put  in  order  later," 
Fred  said  to  the  old  man.  "  Can  we  find  the  base 
of  the  flue!" 

"  Certain ;  I  '11  show  you ;  it 's  in  the  barn-cellar," 


HOW  OSK   "ASSISTED"  177 

replied  the  old  man.  "  You  may  knock  as  many 
holes  in  it  as  you  please." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Pudgwick.  Mr.  Hazel,  beware 
of  that  boy's  tricks !  I  '11  go  for  a  mason,  and  be 
at  the  judge's  office  about  as  soon  as  you  are.  Old 
man,"  Fred  said  to  his  friend,  as  they  preceded  the 
others  down  the  stairs,  "what  do  you  think  now?" 

"  Want  my  opin' !  I  find  I  was  mistaken  about 
the  venerable  chin-propeller,"  Quimby  admitted. 

"He  's  perfectly  upright,  I  am  certain!"  Fred 
declared. 

"Yes;  perpendic'  as  a  bean-pole  —  though  not 
quite  so  slim.  He  was  awfully  anxious,  one  time, 
that  his  cub  of  a  grandson  should  get  clear.  That 's 
what  deceived  me.  But  we  're  right  about  the  cup." 

They  paused,  before  getting  on  their  wheels,  to 
witness  the  meeting  between  Osk  and  his  grand- 
mother, at  the  kitchen  door. 

"  Oh,  child ! "  she  said,  in  deep  distress,  "  be  you 
took  up  ag'in  ?  " 

"  It 's  nothing,"  said  Osk.  "  I  shall  be  back  here 
in  a  few  minutes.  Don't  worry." 

At  the  chiefs  suggestion,  however,  she  went  to 
put  up  a  hasty  luncheon,  which  she  brought  with 
trembling  hands,  and  urged  her  grandson  to  accept. 
As  he  indignantly  refused  it,  Chief  Hazen  said : 


178  THE  PEIZE  CUP 

"  I  '11  take  it  for  him.  He  '11  need  it  before  he 
sees  your  table  again." 

"And  your  ' bettermost '  coat,  dearie,"  pleaded 
the  old  lady,  "do  put  that  on.  I  '11  bring  it  in 
a  minute." 

"No,  no!"  said  Osk;  and  an  ill-natured  look 
came  into  his  eyes,  which  showed  plainly  the  kind 
of  despot  he  was  in  the  home  of  his  grandparents. 
"  I  say  no !  do  you  hear  ?  "  he  called  after  her,  sav- 
agely, as  she  was  going  to  bring  the  garment.  "  I 
don't  want  it,  and  I  won't  have  it !  Come  along,. 
Cop!"  And  he  marched  off  with  Chief  Hazel. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  such  intolerable  insolence  ?  " 
Fred  remarked  to  his  friend,  as  they  rode  away. 

"Simply  coloss'!"  replied  Canton  Quimby. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

TEACHING  THE  DUMB  TO   SPEAK 


H,  mama,"  exclaimed  Ida  Lisle,  with 
filial  admiration,  that  afternoon,  "  I 
do  think  you  are  the  most  patient 
mother  in  all  this  weary  world ! " 

"  What  mother  would  not  be  pa- 
tient in  such  a  cause?"  Mrs.  Lisle  replied,  with 
softly  beaming  eyes.  "It  is  very  slow,  and  very 
difficult,  and  sometimes  I  should  be  quite  discour- 
aged if  I  did  n't  constantly  say  to  myself  that  what 
has  been  done  for  others  I  may  also  do  for  my 
dear  child!" 

She  was  teaching  deaf  little  Laurie  to  talk. 
The  affliction  that  deprived  him  of  his  hearing 
had  come  before  he  had  learned  to  speak  more 
than  a  very  few  words;  and  these  he  seemed  to 
have  forgotten  when,  after  a  prolonged  and  dan- 
gerous illness,  he  regained  his  bodily  health.  In 
his  fifth  year  a  few  attempts  were  made  to  teach 


170 


180  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

him  the  printed  alphabet,  together  with  the  sign 
alphabet  used  by  deaf-mutes,  but  his  restless  activ- 
ity had  thus  far  defeated  these  efforts.  It  seemed 
impossible  to  fix  his  attention  upon  what  was  so 
far  outside  of  his  own  little  world;  and  the  very 
facility  with  which  he  had  always  found  and  used 
more  natural  ways  of  communication  was  a  hin- 
drance to  his  acquiring  any  other  method. 

But  of  late  Mrs.  Lisle  had  abandoned  the  alpha- 
betical system  and  begun  with  him  an  entirely 
new  scheme  of  education.  She  was  teaching  him 
to  form  articulate  sounds,  and  to  read  and  imitate 
lip-movements. 

He  was  much  more  patient  under  this  discipline, 
since  it  awakened  his  curiosity  and  gave  him  some- 
thing to  do.  It  was  her  custom  to  place  him  in  his 
high  chair  facing  her,  where  he  could  watch  her 
closely.  Then  she  would  put  his  little  hands  to 
use,  to  perceive  the  vocal  movements  of  her  own 
throat,  and  to  feel  for  them  at  his  own;  and  to 
feel  the  breath,  soft  or  forcible,  as  it  came  from 
her  lips.  She  had  never  received  any  instruction 
in  teaching  speech  to  a  deaf-mute ;  she  only  knew 
from  what  she  had  read  that  it  could  be  done,  and 
she  had  gone  to  work  in  what  seemed  to  her  the 
simplest  way. 


TEACHING  THE  DUMB  TO  SPEAK  181 

It  was  a  delight  to  little  Laurie  to  find,  as  lie 
quickly  did,  that  he  could  produce  in  his  own 
throat  such  tremblings  as  he  felt  in  hers.  And 
what  joy  this  first  step  in  his  vocal  development 
brought  to  the  mother's  fondly  anxious  heart! 
Both  clapped  their  hands  over  it,  and  with  mu- 
tual hugs  and  kisses  celebrated  the  event.  Then 
each  member  of  the  household  had  to  come  and 
feel  the  motions  of  the  child's  throat,  hear  the 
sounds  he  emitted,  and  express  great  surprise 
and  delight. 

The  first  intelligible  word  that  came  from  his 
hitherto  dumb  lips  was  mamma,  which  he  quickly 
learned  as  the  name  of  the  dearest  person  on 
earth.  True,  it  was  for  two  or  three  lessons  lit- 
tle more  than  mummum ;  then  the  final  m  was  left 
off ;  and  at  length  he  was  made  to  open  his  mouth 
wide  enough  to  change  the  short  u  sound  to  ah. 
This  triumph  alone  was  sufficient  to  reward  the 
proud  mother  for  all  her  previous  trials  and  dis- 
appointments. 

"  Oh !  but  how  can  he  ever  learn  to  read  words 
by  watching  our  lips?"  said  Ida.  "Think  how 
many  do  not  come  to  our  lips  at  all,  and  must 
seem  just  alike  to  him !  —  nod,  not,  dog,  dot,  got ; 
in,  it,  ill,  knit;  at,  cat,  can,  can't,  and  hosts  of 


182  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

others.  Even  if  we  should  look  beyond  the  teeth, 
we  should  often  see  no  difference.  Then  so  many 
sounds  are  formed,  even  by  the  lips,  in  precisely 
the  same  way, — be,  me;  men,  pen;  if,  give;  there  's 
no  end  of  them ! " 

She  said  this  even  after  Midget  had  achieved 
mamma;  not  so  much  to  throw  doubt  upon  the 
success  of  the  undertaking,  as  to  hear  Mrs.  Lisle 
reiterate  her  assurances. 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  I  know  all  the  difficulties,  and  I 
don't  expect  that  all  of  them  ever  will  be  overcome. 
But  they  have  been  overcome  in  a  great  measure 
by  others ;  and  who  is  brighter  than  our  Laurie  ?  " 

"  Or  who  has  a  more  devoted  teacher  1 "  said  Ida, 
with  glistening  eyes. 

"No  deaf  person  can  ever  distinguish  all  the 
sounds  from  merely  watching  the  mouth,"  her 
mother  went  on.  "Neither  can  you,  Ida,  distin- 
guish all  the  written  letters,  taken  separately,  in 
your  friends'  correspondence.  How  often  the  m's 
and  w's  and  w's,  and  other  characters,  run  together, 
or  look  just  alike!  So  that  often  there  will  be 
whole  words  you  can't  make  out  by  themselves. 
But  one  word  helps  you  to  the  sense  of  another. 
Sometimes  you  have  to  glance  through  a  whole 
sentence  before  you  get  an  idea  of  its  meaning, 


TEACHING  THE  DUMB  TO  SPEAK  183 

when  all  comes  to  yon  like  a  flash.  It  is  in  some 
snch  way  that  the  deaf  read  spoken  language. 
Long  practice  makes  it  almost  intuitive." 

Mrs.  Lisle  repeated  some  wonderful  stories  she 
had  heard  or  read  of  deaf  persons,  who  could  speak 
and  read  lip-movements  so  well  that  they  were  able 
to  go  about  in  society,  and  even  transact  important 
business,  without  betraying  their  infirmity;  and 
added : 

"I  am  positive  we  shall  make  an  accomplished 
speech-reader  of  our  bright  little  Laurie,  and  per- 
haps prepare  him  for  a  useful  and  happy  career." 

He  was  resting  in  his  chair  while  this  talk  —  like 
many  such  talks  — was  going  on,  and  he  seemed  to 
know  what  it  was  about. 

"  Mamma !  mamma  ! "  he  called  triumphantly,  as 
if  in  evidence  of  the  truth  of  what  she  was  saying ; 
and  he  laughed  as  she  caught  him  in  her  arms 
with  tears  of  joy. 

He  spoke  with  the  drawl  peculiar  to  the  deaf, 
not  always  agreeable  to  hear ;  but  it  was  the  glad- 
dest of  sounds  to  Mrs.  Lisle. 

It  happened  to  be  the  day  when  Tracy  had  sent 
Fred  Melverton  and  his  friend  Quimby  on  what  he 
called  their  fox-hunt.  He  had  hurried  home  to  tell 
his  mother  and  sister,  and  there  had  been  much 


184  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

excited  talk  on  the  subject.  So  it  chanced  that 
Ida  suggested: 

"Make  him  say  cup;  that  should  be  an  easy 
word." 

The  mother  had  previously  drilled  him  in  the 
sound  of  hard  c,  or  k,  with  indifferent  success. 
Again  she  made  him  look  into  her  mouth,  and 
put  one  finger  in,  and  to  feel  the  sudden  impulse 
of  the  breath,  while  with  the  other  hand  he  felt 
the  concussion  and  vibration  of  her  throat. 

"Kuh-kuh,w  he  repeated  after  her,  making  the 
sound  very  distinctly. 

"  Oh,  Laurie,  what  a  dear,  delightful  little  pupil 
you  are ! "  she  joyfully  exclaimed.  And  again  they 
had  to  hug  each  other,  the  child  laughing  gleefully 
upon  the  mother's  neck.  "Now  try!"  she  said, 
having  placed  his  fingers  again  at  her  throat  so  he 
might  know  the  sound :  "  Cup." 

"  Come?  drawled  Laurie,  prolonging  the  sound 
through  the  nose  after  the  closing  of  the  lips. 

She  had  got  from  him  a  new  word  unexpectedly, 
and  was  as  well  pleased  as  if  it  had  been  the  right 
one.  She  made  him  pronounce  it  over  and  over 
again,  and  by  means  of  the  gestures  he  was  famil- 
iar with,  explained  to  him  its  meaning. 

Enough  had  been  accomplished  for  one  lesson ; 


TEACHING  THE  DUMB  TO  SPEAK  185 

but  he  was  getting  on  so  fast,  things  difficult  be- 
coming all  at  once  unexpectedly  easy,  that  she  re- 
solved to  make  another  trial  of  cup.  She  showed 
him  how  the  vibration  of  the  throat  ceased  with 
the  closing  of  the  lips,  which  then  opened  with  a 
slight  percussion  of  the  breath.  He  was  intensely 
interested.  Both  were  absorbed  in  the  strange  ex- 
ercise, which  to  an  observer  would  have  seemed 
incomprehensible  and  comic  until  the  touching 
significance  of  it  was  revealed. 

Mr.  Wai  worth  chanced  to  enter  just  as  Midget, 
who  had  succeeded  in  enunciating  cup,  immedi- 
ately putting  the  two  words  together,  cried, 
"  Come  —  cup,"  and  jumped  from  his  chair,  too 
happy  over  his  success  to  sit  any  longer. 

"  I  never  saw  such  progress ! "  said  the  minister. 
"You  will  have  him  talking  like  any  other  child 
—  almost,"  he  put  in  conscientiously,  "in  a  few 
months." 

"He  must  learn  the  meaning  of  words  as  we 
go  along,"  said  the  joyous  mother.  "  Get  a  cup, 
Ida;  remember  that  he  does  not  know  it  by 
name  yet." 

So  a  tea-cup  was  brought,  and  he  was  made  to 
understand  that  the  word  belonged  to  the  thing. 
Then  he  ran  to  the  pantry,  and  brought  out  his 


186  THE  PEIZE  CUP 

own  silver  drinking-cup,  uttering  all  the  while, 

"Cup,  cup!" 
Then  he  left  his  own  cup  and  the  tea-cup  on 

the  table,  and  ran  to  the  outer  door,  beckoning 

and  calling: 

"  Come  —  cup  !    Come  —  cup  !  " 

He  ran  into  his  brother  Tracy's  arms. 


CHAPTER  XXYII 

AN  AMAZING  DISCOVERY 

JHAT  is  this  1 "  cried  Tracy,  rushing 
into  the  room.  "  He  is  talking ! 
Midget  is  talking  !  " 

In  the  excited  state  of  his  mind, 
that  forenoon,  while  waiting  to 
hear  of  the  success  of  the  fox-hunt,  it  is  no  wonder 
that  the  seeming  miracle  made  him  fairly  shriek 
with  rapture.  He  in  turn  had  to  hold  and  hug 
the  child,  while  the  manner  of  the  miracle-work- 
ing was  briefly  explained;  by  which  time  Midget 
had  struggled  from  his  arms,  and  was  at  the  door 
again,  calling  "  Come  —  cup  ! "  beckoning,  and  al- 
ternately making  a  fluttering  movement  with  his 
arms,  and  forming  a  cup-like  shape  with  his  hands. 
"It  is  a  bird's  nest  he  means,"  said  Mrs.  Lisle. 
"  He  wants  to  show  us  one,  and  know  whether  we 
call  that  a  cup,  too.  Go  with  him,  Tracy,  and  ex- 
plain it.  I  must  see  to  the  dinner  if  we  are  to  in- 
vite those  young  men." 


187 


188  THE  PEIZE  CUP 

Midget  led  the  way,  faster  than  his  brother  cared 
to  follow,  down  the  slope  to  the  brookside,  and  on- 
ward to  the  bridge;  in  the  cool  shadow  of  which 
the  child  climbed  the  lower  wall  of  the  abutment, 
to  the  end  of  a  timber,  where  the  phoebe's  nest 
used  to  be. 

"Must  be  the  phcebes  are  building  again," 
thought  Tracy. 

Midget  had  been  the  first  to  discover  the  ab- 
sence of  the  old  nest,  and  he  had  reported  this 
to  his  friends  with  childish  grief  and  anger.  They, 
too,  had  been  indignant  at  the  robbery;  but  more 
important  events  had  lately  driven  the  subject 
from  Tracy's  mind. 

"He  is  peeping  —  just  as  he  used  to  peep  into 
the  old  nest,"  thought  he,  and  his  indignation  re- 
vived, as  he  remembered  how  fond  Midget  was  of 
his  feathered  friends,  and  how  little  fear  of  him 
they  ever  betrayed.  Sometimes  the  mother-bird 
would  remain  sitting  on  her  nest,  while  his  little 
nose,  as  he  climbed  and  peeped,  almost  touched 
her.  But  where  were  the  phoabes  now? 

Not  a  bird  was  heard  or  seen ;  nothing  sang  but 
the  brook. 

"  Come  —  come  !  w  cried  Midget,  with  his  cheek 
against  the  end  of  the  heavy  string-piece,  where 
it  rested  on  the  wall. 


MIDGET    REVEALS    A    SECRET. 


AN  AMAZING  DISCOVERY  191 

Stepping  along  the  little  sandy  beach  that  bor- 
dered the  bed  of  the  streamlet,  Tracy  stooped  be- 
neath the  bridge;  a  growing  sense  of  apprehension 
falling  upon  him,  with  the  cavern-like  shadow. 

Then  suddenly,  as  he  put  his  cheek  against  the 
child's,  and,  looking  up,  saw  what  the  child  saw, 
he  started  back  in  utter  amazement  and  dismay. 

For  there,  on  the  top  of  the  wall,  close  against 
the  beam,  from  which  the  old  nest  had  been  broken 
away  by  ruthless  hands,  was  indeed  a  cup-shaped 
thing,  but  not  a  nest;  an  actual  cup  —  the  cup  of 
all  cups  — 

THE  PRIZE  CUP! 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

A  FAMILY  COUNCIL 

JHEN  Tracy  returned  to  the  house 
all  the  joy  of  the  morning  had 
gone  out  of  his  face;  and  he  was 
followed  reluctantly  by  Midget,  no 
longer  repeating  his  first  glad 
words  —  all  the  happiness  faded  from  Ms  face,  too, 
which  was  the  face  of  a  miserable  little  culprit. 

"  Why,  Tracy ! »  Ida  cried  at  sight  of  him.  "You 
look  sick ! " 

"I  am  sick,"  he  replied  dejectedly,  holding  one 
hand  behind  him.  "Where  's  mama?" 

His  mother  was  called,  and  she  came  in  haste; 
she  regarded  her  two  boys  with  anxious,  inquir- 
ing eyes. 

"  What  has  happened  1 "  was  all  she  could  say. 
"Look  at  this!"  Tracy  answered,  in  a  choked 
voice. 

And  with  a  countenance  full  of  anguish  he  held 

192 


A  FAMILY  COUNCIL  193 

out  an  object  which,  it  would  seem,  should  have 
gladdened  any  honest  boy's  eyes  —  a  beautiful,  sil- 
ver-bright, gold-lined  goblet. 

"  Fred's  cup ! "  "  Where  did  you  find  it  1 "  cried 
mother  and  sister  at  once. 

"Midget  had  it,"  said  the  boy,  from  the  depths 
of  his  wretched  soul. 

"How  did  he  come  by  it?"  cried  the  mother, 
with  an  amazed  look  at  the  little  mischief-maker, 
who  stood  peering  in  at  the  door,  with  shy,  expect- 
ant eyes. 

"  He  took  it,"  said  Tracy.  "  He  has  told  me  all 
about  it." 

"  The  stolen  cup  !  How  could  he  ?  "  exclaimed 
the  mother.  "What  is  this?" 

As  Tracy  handed  her  the  goblet,  she  noticed 
that  the  gold  lining  was  half  hidden  by  some 
soft,  matted  substance,  with  which  the  hollow 
was  partly  filled. 

"  Come  here ! "  she  called,  and  motioned  to 
Midget,  who,  however,  did  not  stir,  but  watched 
eagerly  to  see  what  was  to  come  of  his  strange 
misdoing. 

"He  has  been  up  to  the  Melverton  house  with 
me,"  Tracy  explained,  "and  shown  me  how  he 
got  into  one  of  the  dining-room  windows,  from 


194  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

the  piazza,  and  took  the  cup  from  a  sideboard 
drawer." 

"  Oh,  Laurie,  Laurie ! "  groaned  Mrs.  Lisle ;  while 
Ida  in  her  turn  examined  the  curious  contents  of 
the  goblet. 

"As  near  as  I  can  make  out,"  Tracy  proceeded, 
"he  had  peeked  through  the  blinds  and  seen  G-id 
Ketterell  handling  it,  and  showing  it  to  somebody 
—  Osk  Ordway,  I  suppose.  He  already  had  a  spite 
against  Grid;  so  when  he  missed  the  phcebe's  nest 
under  the  bridge,  he  took  the  cup.  For  what,  do 
you  think  ?  " 

In  her  amazement  and  distress,  the  poor  mother 
could  n't  conjecture. 

"  To  be  revenged  on  Grid,"  suggested  Ida ; 
"though  it  does  n't  seem  as  if  he  could  have 
looked  so  far  ahead  as  that." 

"  No,  not  for  that,"  Tracy  replied.  "  But  it  was 
really  to  pay  the  birds  for  the  loss  of  their  nest ! 
That  's  what  he  put  this  fine  grass  in  it  for  —  as 
something  inviting  for  them  to  lay  their  eggs  in." 

And  in  the  midst  of  his  intense  chagrin,  the 
elder  brother  had  to  laugh  at  the  pretty,  fantastic, 
childish  notion. 

"He  put  the  cup  in  place  of  the  nest;  and  he 
seems  to  have  had  no  doubt  that  the  phosbes  would 


A  FAMILY  COUNCIL  195 

adopt  it,  when  they  were  ready  to  raise  another 
brood ;  and  when  he  saw  how  sorry  I  was  about 
the  nest,  he  thought  he  would  please  me  by  point- 
ing at  the  fine  nest  he  had  made  for  them  inside. 
It 's  all  as  cunning  as  it  can  be  —  but  —  oh ! "  and 
Tracy  ended  with  something  like  a  yell  of  pain. 

Mother  and  sister  laughed,  too,  with  tender 
inirthf ulness ;  and  with  bright  tears  in  her  for- 
giving eyes  Mrs.  Lisle  held  out  loving  arms  to 
the  waiting  Midget.  He  rushed  into  them,  and 
nestled  affectionately  to  her. 

"  Why  were  you  so  horrified  ? "  queried  Ida. 
"  One  would  think  you  were  not  glad  the  cup 
was  found." 

"  Of  course  I  am  glad !  but  to  have  it  turn  out 
that  Midget  is  the  rogue!"  said  Tracy. 

"  But  he  meant  no  harm.  He  only  meant  to  do 
an  act  of  justice  to  the  birds, —  the  precious  little 
innocent!"  the  mother  exclaimed,  rocking  the  lit- 
tle fellow  to  and  fro. 

"Fred  Melverton  will  laugh  —  they  will  all 
laugh  ! "  said  Ida,  with  a  merry  peal.  "It  's  the 
funniest  thing  I  ever  heard!" 

"  Funny ! "  Tracy  echoed,  with  a  lugubrious  grin. 
"But  there  's  one  that  won't  laugh;  he  will  get 
laughed  at !  I  've  done  such  a  smart  stroke  of 


12 


196  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

detective  business !  I  was  so  sure  of  everything ! 
And  my  telegram  to  Fred ! "  lie  added,  his  voice 
running  up  into  a  falsetto  of  comic  despair. 

Ida  wiped  her  eyes  and  said: 

"  Why  should  you  care  for  that  I  It  was  all  a 
mistake." 

"  Don't  I  know  it  was  a  mistake,  without  being 
told  ?  "  cried  Tracy.  "  Have  n't  I  found  it  out  to 
my  sorrow  ?  I  fairly  grew  fat  on  my  grudge,  when 
I  found  Grid  was  discharged  under  suspicion ;  and 
I  was  just  the  biggest  fellow  in  this  town  when  I 
took  his  place  and  set  about  ferreting  out  the  rob- 
bery. How  can  I  tell  Fred  that  Grid  and  Osk  had 
nothing  to  do  with  it,  after  the  ridiculous  fox-hunt 
I  have  sent  them  on  1  Oh,  my  gracious!"  his  voice 
tending  again  to  the  wild  falsetto. 

Mrs.  Lisle,  still  rocking  the  child,  her  face  full 
of  tearful  smiles,  admitted  sympathizingly : 

"  It  will  be  a  little  humiliating,  no  doubt." 

"A  little  humiliating!"  Tracy  almost  shouted. 
"  It 's  the  most  crushing  thing  that  ever  happened 
to  me.  Do  you  know,  when  I  saw  the  cup  on  the 
wall  I  was  tempted  to  leave  it  there  and  say  no- 
thing about  it :  to  let  the  suspicion  still  rest  on 
Grid  and  Osk !  Would  you  believe  I  could  be  so 
mean  ? "  And  he  scowled  with  bitter  self-reproach. 


A  FAMILY  COUNCIL  197 

"  It  would  have  been  mean  and  wicked  enough 
if  you  had  listened  to  the  temptation,"  said  his 
mother.  uBut  I  know  you  did  not  for  a  single 
moment.  I  know  you  could  n't  do  such  a  wrong, 
even  to  an  enemy.  Better  the  truth,  though  it 
shames  us,  than  any  advantage  gained  by  an  act 
of  injustice." 

Ida  was  about  to  empty  the  cup  of  its  curious 
contents,  in  order  to  dust  and  brighten  it;  but 
Tracy  cried  out  to  her: 

"  Don't  do  that !  I  want  Fred  to  see  it  just  as  it 
is.  Oh !  what  luck  is  he  having  with  his  fox-hunt, 
I  wonder ! " 

"Here  he  comes  right  into  the  yard!"  Ida  ex- 
claimed, stepping  quickly  aside  from  the  open 
window.  "He  and  his  friend,  on  their  wheels!" 


CHAPTER  XXIX 


A  MEKEY  POECH   PAETY 

N  a  moment  more  the  bicycles  were 
lying  on  the  turf,  and  the  bicyclers 
were  mounting  the  porch  steps. 

"Let  them  in,  Ida,"  Tracy  hur- 
riedly   whispered.      "I    can't  look 
them  in  the  face." 

"  You  must,"  said  Ida,  escaping  from  the  room ; 
"  I  can't  be  seen  in  this  house  rig." 

"You  may  as  well  meet  it,  Tracy,"  said  his 
mother. 

So,  putting  on  a  resolute  look,  Tracy  went  to 

the  front  door. 

"Come  in,"  he  said,  "and  tell  us  what  luck 
you  've  had." 

"We  can  tell  you  here,"  Fred  Melverton  replied, 
in  radiant  good  humor. 

"We  've  had  great  luck,  thanks  to  you,"  said 
Canton  Quimby. 


198 


A  MEEEY  POECH  PAETY  199 

"We  've  found  the  cup,"  Fred  added,  —  they 
were  both  so  full  of  the  good  news  that  they  told 
it  together, — "and  we  've  got  the  thief  in  jail." 

"  You  can't  —  you  don't  mean  —  "  stammered 
Tracy,  astounded. 

"  We  have  n't  got  the  cup  in  hand,"  said  Canton 
Quimby ;  "  but  we  have  located  it  —  we  know  just 
where  it  is ;  and,  as  Melf  says,  we  've  got  one  of 
the  thieves  in  the  lock-up.  We  shall  have  another 
there  in  an  hour  or  two,  if  I  can  persuade  Melf  to 
do  his  duty." 

Tracy  stared,  and  demanded: 

"How  many  are  there,  according  to  your  reck- 
oning ?  " 

"  Two,  anyway"  Fred  answered  positively.  "  Os- 
car Ordway  had  it  in  his  possession ;  but  it  seems 
Grid  Ketterell  is  an  accessory, —  probably  after  the 
fact, —  and  that  he  expects  to  share  the  proceeds 
of  the  plunder.  I  have  n't  sworn  out  a  warrant 
for  him  yet ;  but  I  left  word  with  his  mother,  just 
now,  that  if  he  wants  to  wash  his  hands  of  a  dan- 
gerous piece  of  business,  he  'd  better  lose  no  time 
in  coming  to  see  me.  Then  she  learned  for  the 
first  time  that  I  had  discharged  him." 

"  And  she  was  n't  so  much  pleased  as  if  she  had 
had  a  fortune  of  a  million  dollars  left  her,"  said 


200  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

Canton  Quimby,  significantly.  "He  '11  wish  him- 
self in  jail  already  when  he  falls  into  her  clutches." 

Tracy  did  not  appear  hah3  so  much  elated  as  his 
friends  thought  he  had  reason  to  be. 

"I  'm  afraid — I  don't  understand — there  's  a  big 
mistake ! "  he  murmured. 

"  It 's  a  mistake  of  the  right  sort  —  a  mistake  for 
the  rogue  that  's  got  caught,"  Fred  Melverton  re- 
plied, with  unshaken  gaiety. 

He  threw  himself  on  a  porch  chair,  while  his 
friend  sat  upon  the  rail;  and  between  them  they 
gave  an  amusing  account  of  their  adventure,  to 
which  Tracy  listened  in  mute  amazement. 

"We  did  n't  find  Judge  Carter  at  home,"  Fred 
concluded,  "  so  the  Chief  just  took  Osk  to  the  cells 
for  safe-keeping.  But  we  did  unearth  a  mason; 
and  he  is  to  go  with  us  at  one  o'clock  to  break  a 
hole  in  the  base  of  the  chimney.  I  'm  sorry  for 
Osk,  but  then  — " 

"  He  must  n't  make  too  free  with  other  people's 
prize  cups,  you  know,"  struck  in  Canton  Quimby. 
"Boys  take  a  good  many  liberties;  but  there  is  a 
limit:  we  draw  the  line  at  silverware,  Melf  and 
I — especially  silver  won  in  a  race  by  hard  row- 
ing. Is  n't  that  the  point,  Melf?" 

"  It  's  all  too  good ! "  exclaimed  Tracy,  rousing 


A  MERRY  PORCH  PARTY  201 

from  a  sort  of  dream.  "  It  ought  to  be  true.  But 
I  don't  see  through  it  —  unless  —  do  you  miss  any- 
thing else  out  of  your  house  !  " 

" Not  yet — I  think  I  told  you;  though  of  course 
I  don't  know  how  many  things  may  have  been 
stolen,"  Fred  replied,  puzzled  in  his  turn.  "Why! " 

"  There  must  be  something ;  for  —  look  here." 

Tracy  turned  to  his  mother,  who  was  just  then 
coming  out  of  the  house,  with  a  countenance  all 
smiles,  bearing  Midget  in  her  arms,  and  holding  up 
the  prize  cup  in  her  hand. 

Melverton  hardly  paused  to  greet  Mrs.  Lisle  as 
he  sprang  to  his  feet.  "What  's  that!"  he  ex- 
claimed. 

"If  it  is  n't  your  lost  cup,  then  I  don't  know 
what  it  is,"  she  replied,  holding  it  out  to  him. 

"  It  is  that  —  or  it  is  magic ! "  he  cried,  in  ex- 
treme surprise,  taking  it  in  his  hand.  "Where  did 
it  come  from !  Where  has  it  been  !  Oh,  Quimby," 
turning  to  his  friend,  "  here  's  the  game  we've  been 
chasing  down  Gran'sir  Pudgwick's  chimney ! " 

"  I  don't  catch  on ! "  Canton  Quimby  replied. 
"  It  must  be  an  intoxicating  cup,  that  makes  every- 
body see  double.  Is  there  any  answer  to  this  enig' 
—  enigma ! "  completing  the  word  out  of  respect  to 
Mrs.  Lisle's  presence. 


202  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

"  I  beg  your  pardon ! "  said  Fred,  suddenly  re- 
membering that  he  had  not  presented  his  friend, 
which  he  proceeded  to  do,  with  awkward  abrupt- 
ness. "  I  believe  I  've  lost  my  wits.  What  is  all 
this  1 "  observing  the  bits  of  wilted  grass  that  half 
filled  the  cup. 

"  I  wish  Laurie  could  speak  and  explain  it,"  Mrs. 
Lisle  replied,  while  Midget,  knowing  very  well  what 
the  conversation  was  about,  shyly  hid  his  face  in 
her  neck.  "For,  I  'm  sorry  to  say,  he  is  the 
rogue ! " 

"  And  our  other  two  I "  cried  Melverton. 

"  Seems  to  be  a  pretty  good  day  for  rogues,"  said 
Canton  Quimby. 

"  I  don't  know  about  the  others,"  said  Mrs.  Lisle. 
"  Tracy,  tell  them  about  Midget." 

She  herself  rarely  called  the  child  by  that  name 
—  never,  indeed,  except  when  he  had  shown  him- 
self extraordinarily  mischievous. 

And  Tracy  told.  Melverton  burst  into  shouts  of 
laughter,  while  Canton  Quimby  shook  with  more 
quiet  convulsions. 

"A  bird's  nest!"  said  Fred.  "Oh,  you  dear, 
queer  little  Midget !  You  must  give  me  a  kiss  for 
that!" 

He  held  out  his  arms.    Midget,  perceiving  the 


A  MERRY  PORCH  PARTY  203 

pleasant  turn  the  affair  was  taking,  leaped  into 
them,  with  silent,  joyous  laughter.  Then,  after  a 
good  hugging,  he  pointed  to  the  cup,  now  in  Tracy's 
hands,  and  repeated  the  words  he  had  that  morning 
learned  —  words  that  had  made  all  who  heard  them 
so  happy,  and  which  he  seemed  to  know  would 
please  his  friend  Fred  no  less : 

"  Cup  —  cup !     Come  —  cup ! " 

As  this  part  of  the  morning's  experiences  had 
been  omitted  from  Tracy's  story,  Fred  was  filled 
anew  with  wonder  and  admiration.  He  danced 
about  with  the  child,  repeating  with  him  the  mar- 
velous syllables,  to  Midget's  great  satisfaction  as 
he  watched  the  young  man's  lips  and  felt  his  throat, 
while  Quimby  looked  on  with  keen  enjoyment  of 
the  scene. 

In  the  midst  of  which  jubilation  Ida  appeared, 
lovely  as  a  rose,  and  almost  as  red,  having  given  a 
graceful  twist  to  her  hair  and  thrown  a  scarf  about 
her  neck;  and  the  young  minister  followed,  and 
there  were  introductions  and  congratulations,  until 
a  passer-by  must  have  remarked  that  there  was  a 
livelier  porch  party  at  the  old  parsonage  than  it 
had  ever  known  before,  in  the  fifty  years  of  its 
sober  existence. 


CHAPTER  XXX 


GID   KETTEEELL   CONFESSES 


HIS  idea  may  have  occurred  to  a 
strong-armed  and  stern-featured 
woman  who  was  just  then  crossing 
the  ravine  from  the  Melverton  place 
and  ascending  the  slope  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  merry  voices.  Leading  by  the  coat- 
collar  a  reluctant  youth  who  was  much  inclined  to 
lag  a  step  or  two  in  the  rear,  she  made  her  appear- 
ance below  the  house  just  as  Fred  was  saying : 

"  But,  Canton,  we  forget  we  have  a  fellow  locked 
up  for  stealing  the  cup  that  was  never  stolen ! " 

"  No  matter,"  Quimby  replied.  "  He  has  stolen 
something  else  —  and  very  likely  out  of  your  house 
—  if  we  can  only  find  what  it  is." 

"  Here  ?s  somebody  that  perhaps  can  tell  you," 
said  Tracy,  as  Mrs.  Ketterell  dragged  forward  her 
unwilling  son  into  full  view." 

There  was  a  flush  on  the  washerwoman's  hard 


GID  KETTEEELL  CONFESSES  205 

features  and  a  green  fire  in  her  eyes  as  she  sta- 
tioned herself  at  the  foot  of  the  porch  steps,  still 
holding  Gideon  by  his  coat-collar.  Her  tawny 
mane,  combed  straight  back  over  her  head  and 
down  her  neck,  was  badly  frizzed  and  rumpled, 
and  helped  to  give  her  features  a  wild,  ferocious 
aspect. 

"Mr.  Frederick,"  she  began,  "if  you  '11  pardon 
the  intrusion,  I  Ve  brought  my  boy  here  to  make 
a  clean  breast  of  the  bad  job  you  spoke  of  5  and 
if  he  lives,  and  I  live,  he  's  going  to  tell  you  the 
whole  truth  before  ever  he  goes  back  to  the  home 
he  has  disgraced." 

"  If  that  is  so  — "  began  Melverton ;  then,  turn- 
ing to  Mrs.  Lisle  and  her  daughter,  he  said  apolo- 
getically, "I  am  afraid  we  are  going  to  have  a 
scene." 

"  It  is  most  certainly  so,"  said  the  washerwoman, 
her  red  knuckles  turning  white  with  the  new  grip 
she  gave  the  boy's  collar.  "  I  don't  whale  him  very 
often,  but  when  I  do  I  make  up  for  neglected  du- 
ties in  that  particular.  I  not  only  settle  old  scores 
with  interest,  but  I  give  him  a  few  extrys  on  ac- 
count, so  I  sha'n't  be  running  too  much  in  his  debt." 

"  G-ideon  is  getting  to  be  a  big  boy  for  discipline 
of  that  sort,"  Fred  suggested. 


206  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

"So  indeed  he  is,"  said  the  mother;  "but  lie 
ain't  so  big  yet  but  what  I  can  handle  him,  with  a 
spare  finger  or  two  kept  in  reserve  for  emergen- 
cies; and  he  hain't  forgot  the  small  taste  of  the 
wrong  end  of  the  whip  he  received  wunst  when  he 
attempted  to  handle  me.  He  was  persuaded  then 
to  take  his  medicine  in  regular  fashion,  and  be  de- 
cent about  it.  Think  of  a  younker  like  him  raising 
his  hand  against  his  own  mother,  ladies  and  gentle- 
men !  But  though,  as  I  said,  he  done  it  wunst, 
he  never  done  it  twicet,  the  scapegrace  !  Will  you 
tell  the  truth  to  your  friend  and  benefactor,  now  ?  " 
she  demanded,  giving  the  said  scapegrace  a  sharp 
wrench  by  the  collar.  "  Say  '  I  will,'  if  you  know 
what 's  hullsome  for  your  soul  and  body ! " 

"  I  will,"  said  Gideon,  promptly,  with  a  shake  in 
his  voice  not  caused  altogether  by  the  twist  his 
mother  gave  him.  At  the  same  time  he  presented 
so  lugubrious  a  countenance  that  Tracy  felt  im- 
mensely relieved  as  to  any  triumph  his  enemy  was 
to  gain  over  him,  whatever  the  outcome  of  the 
situation. 

"I  am  glad  of  that,"  said  Fred  Melverton :  "for 
some  things  need  very  much  to  be  explained. 
But" —  turning  again  to  the  ladies  —  "this  is 
hardly  the  place  in  which  to  conduct  our  inquiries." 


GID  KETTEEELL  CONFESSES  207 

"  Indeed,  I  've  sense  enough  to  know  that ;  and 
I  'm  begging  Mrs.  Lisle  to  excuse  what  may 
seem  to  be  very  ill  manners.  I  went  first  to  your 
place,  Mr.  Frederick;  then,  hearing  your  voice,  I 
came  directly  here,  in  order  to  lose  no  time  in 
bringing  my  boy  to  terms  whilst  a  healthy  terror 
was  on  him." 

"  That  was  right,  Mrs.  Ketterell,"  said  Mrs.  Lisle, 
approvingly.  "  Let  him  say  right  here  what  is  to 
be  said." 

"  And  let  it  be  the  barefooted  facts  this  time,"  said 
Canton  Quimby. 

Melverton,  standing  with  his  hands  behind  him, 
looking  down  over  the  porch  rail  at  mother  and 
son,  addressed  Gideon. 

"  You  acknowledge  that  what  you  told  me  yes- 
terday was  not  the  truth  1 " 

"Answer!"  Mrs.  Ketterell  commanded  him,  as 
he  hesitated.  "  Did  you  tell  him  whoppers  ?  " 

"  I  s'pose  I  did,"  mumbled  Gideon. 

"  You  know  about  the  cider  ?  "  Fred  queried. 

"Yes,"  Gid  answered;  "but  I  did  n't  drink  it. 
Osk  Ordway  made  me  go  with  him  to  the  cellar, 
and  he  drinked  the  most  of  it." 

"And  did  you  find  cider  in  the  cellar  of  your 
friend  and  benefactor,  and  treat  that  miserable  Osk 


208  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

Ordway  with  it !  "  cried  the  irate  mother.  "  Lucky 
for  your  skin  and  scalp,  I  did  n't  know  that  be- 
fore ! " 

Quitting  her  hold  on  his  collar,  she  seized  his 
ear,  and  gave  it  such  a  tweak  as  elicited  from  him 
a  sharp  yelp. 

"If  you  please,  Mrs.  Ketterell,"  said  Fred,  with 
difficulty  maintaining  his  gravity,  while  everybody 
else  laughed,  except  the  two  most  concerned,  who 
saw  no  fun  in  the  little  comedy  they  were  enact- 
ing. "  So,  Gideon,  you  let  Oscar  into  the  house, 
did  you!" 

The  boy  was  dumb  again. 

"Did  you,  or  did  you  not?"  said  his  mother, 
giving  the  ear  another  twist,  with  much  the  same 
effect  as  if  it  had  been  a  spigot  by  which  she  turned 
on  his  squeals. 

"  I  did !    I  did ! »  yelled  Gideon. 

"  If  you  please,  Mrs.  Ketterell ! "  Fred  repeated, 
deprecatingly.  "And  the  prize  cup  —  you  know 
something  about  that  ?  " 

"  Will  you  speak,  sir  ?  "  cried  his  mother. 

She  had  taken  her  hand  away;  but  the  im- 
pulse to  give  the  spigot  another  turn  was  so 
evident  in  her  that  Gideon  dodged,  and  blurted 
out: 


GID   KETTERELL   CONFESSES  209 

"  I  opened  the  drawer,  and  showed  it  to  him :  he 
made  me  do  it.  But  I  put  it  back,  and  that 's  the 
last  I  saw  of  it — hope  to  die ! "  he  vowed. 

"  And  you  don't  know  what  became  of  it  ? " 

"  Sure 's  I  live !  I  thought  Osk  might  have  come 
that  night  and  taken  it,  but  he  swears  he  did  n't, 
and  he  wants  to  make  me  think  it  has  n't  been  stole 
at  all." 

"  Do  you  believe  him  1 "  Melverton  demanded. 

"  Some  o'  the  time  I  think  I  do,  and  then  again  I 
guess  I  don't ;  but  as  for  knowing  a  thing  about  it, 
I'm  as  innocent  as — as  innocent  as  that  child!" 
And  Gideon,  having  found  what  he  deemed  a  strong 
illustration,  flung  his  elbow  out  toward  Midget 
playing  on  the  walk. 

Fred  repressed  a  smile,  and  said : 

"  Then  what  has  Oscar  kept  hidden  in  the  stove- 
pipe in  his  gran'sir's  shop  ?  —  the  thing  he  has 
been  so  secret  about,  which  you  are  to  share  the 
proceeds  of,  when  it  is  sold  ?  " 

"I  —  don't  —  know  —  of  —  any  — " 

Grid  had  got  so  far  in  his  stammered  denial,  when 
his  mother  interrupted  him.  The  green  fire  was 
flaming  up  in  her  eyes  as  she  said : 

"  Please,  Mr.  Frederick,  may  I  take  him  by  the 
flap  of  his  ear  again  1  It 's  the  best  way  I  know  to 


210  THE  PEIZE  CUP 

wring  a  drop  or  two  of  the  truth  out  of  him,"  the 
expert  in  wringing  added  grimly. 

Fred  put  her  off  with  a  wave  of  his  hand. 

"Gideon,"  he  said,  "you  know  very  well  that 
Oscar  has  carried  home  plunder  of  some  kind,  and 
hidden  it  in  the  stove  funnel ;  but  perhaps  you  are 
not  aware  that  he  has  landed  in  jail  in  consequence. 
Was  it  anything  taken  out  of  our  house?  I  am 
waiting  for  you  to  clear  yourself  of  complicity  in 
that  business." 

"  Will  you  I "  said  his  mother. 

"  I  will ! "  Gideon  almost  shouted,  dodging  her 
uplifted  hand  again.  "It  's  nothing  he  took  out 
of  your  house,  or  out  of  anybody's  house.  But  he 
said  he  would  kill  me  if  I  told." 

"  Tell,  and  be  killed  then,"  said  his  mother.  "  You 
certainly  will  be  killed  if  you  don't." 

And  Gideon  told. 

"It  's  the  phcebes'  nest." 

"  The  phcebes'  nest?"  exclaimed  Melverton.  "He 
took  that !  " 

"Yes,  the  very  day  I  showed  him  the  cup.  I 
blamed  him  for  it,  and  told  him  he  would  get 
prosecuted,  and  scared  him  so  he  promised  to 
put  it  back  on  the  stones,  under  the  bridge.  But 
he  just  hid  it  in  the  bushes,  and  went  back  for 


GID   KETTEEELL   CONFESSES  211 

it  in  the  evening,  and  carried  it  home,  and  got 
Wint  Allston  to  come  and  see  it,  and  offer  him 
half  a  dollar  for  it.  Wint  has  a  permit  for  tak- 
ing nests  and  birds,  and  he  is  making  a  collection. 
Then  Osk  tried  to  sell  it  for  more  to  Tom  Hatch. 
I  was  to  have  half  he  got  for  it,  'cause  I  knew  of 
his  taking  it,  and  he  had  got  me  turned  off  from 
my  place." 

"  Is  all  that  satisfactory  ? "  Mrs.  Ketterell  in- 
quired. "  For  if  there  's  more  to  come  out  of 
him,  we  're  bound  to  fetch  it." 

"It  is  tolerably  satisfactory,  as  far  as  it  goes," 
Fred  replied.  "  But  we  have  n't  got  at  the  bot- 
tom facts  yet.  Eh,  Quimby  ?  " 

"That  Ordway  rapscallion,"  remarked  the  Yale 
junior,  "is  an  artesian  well  of  deception,  and  we 
have  n't  begun  to  fathom  him.  'T  was  n't  a  mere 
bird's  nest  he  was  so  excited  about.  I  believe  now 
he  was  laughing  in  his  sleeve  all  the  time  at  hav- 
ing led  us  on  a  false  trail." 

"The  trouble  will  be  to  get  on  the  right  one," 
Fred  answered.  "  He  was  a  pretty  fellow  for  you 
to  let  into  the  house!" — turning  sharply  on  Gid- 
eon. "Then  for  you  to  leave  a  window  unfast- 
ened !  And  that  drawer —  it  does  n't  seem  now  as 
if  that  could  have  been  locked." 

13 


212  THE  PKIZE  CUP 

"I  've  been  thinking  about  that,"  said  Gideon; 
"and  I  ain't  dead  sure  but  what  I  may  have  put 
the  key  back  where  I  found  it,  without  locking  the 
drawer.  I  remember  Osk  took  it  out  of  the  lock 
and  handed  it  to  me,  at  the  last  minute.  And  I 
may  have  left  that  window  unclasped.  I  was  so 
excited  by  Osk  Ordway's  being  in  the  house,  and 
getting  the  cider,  and  I  was  in  such  a  hurry  to 
have  him  out,  I  got  all  mixed  up,  and  did  n't  know 
what  I  did  do,  or  what  I  did  n't  do." 

"  And  was  your  beautiful  prize  cup  took  in  con- 
sequence of  his  neglect?"  the  indignant  washer- 
woman demanded. 

"By  his  own  account,  it  was  through  his  fault 
that  it  was  lost,"  Fred  replied.  "But  I  am  glad 
to  say  he  was  not  concerned  in  taking  it." 

"  But  he  is  responsible,"  cried  the  mother,  while 
her  impatient  hand  started  for  Grid's  ear,  but 
stopped  at  his  coat-collar.  "And  let  me  say  to 
you,  Mr.  Frederick,  if  hard  work  will  pay  you  for 
your  loss,  he  shall  work  it  out,  if  I  have  to  stand 
over  him  with  a  whip,  all  the  rest  of  the  summer." 

"  It  is  something  money  could  n't  pay  for,"  said 
Fred. 

"  Hear  that  now,  will  you  ? "  Mrs.  Ketterell  ex- 
claimed. 


GID   KETTERELL    CONFESSES  213 

"I  'm — so — sorry ! "  whined  the  contrite  Gideon. 

"  There  '11  be  no  need  of  your  spending  the  sum- 
mer in  the  way  you  propose,"  Fred  smilingly  as- 
sured the  mother.  "The  cup  has  been  found." 

At  the  same  time  Mrs.  Lisle  held  the  goblet  up 
to  the  light,  and  Midget,  who  had  been  playing 
about  the  porch,  but  observing  slyly  all  that  was 
going  on,  took  up  his  joyous  cry : 

"  Cup  —  cup  !    Come  —  cup  ! " 


CHAPTER   XXXI 


OSK  IN   COUKT 

STONISHMENT  at  this  double  rev- 
elation served  to  modify  the  wash- 
erwoman's wrath.  She  prepared  to 
depart. 

"And  do  you  want  my  boy  to 
take  care  of  your  place  any  more  ? "  she  asked. 

"  I  rather  think  you  had  better  find  some  other 
sphere  of  usefulness  for  him,"  Melverton  replied, 
to  Tracy's  very  great  satisfaction.  "I  may  want 
one  thing  of  him,  however, —  to  appear  as  a  wit- 
ness in  the  matter  of  the  nest  robbery,  before 
Judge  Carter,  this  afternoon." 

"  You  shall  have  him  ! "  said  Mrs.  Ketterell,  with 
grim  resolution,  as  she  gave  a  final  clutch  at  the 
lapel  of  her  son's  coat,  and  led  him  away. 

"  I  'm  wondering,"  remarked  Fred  Melverton,  at 
Mrs.  Lisle's  dinner-table,  "  just  what  I  'd  better  do 
with  the  fellow  I  've  got  locked  up  on  a  mistaken 
charge." 

214 


OSK  IN   COURT  215 

"  It  might  be  an  awkward  posish,"  said  Canton 
Quimby — "  position,"  quickly  revising  his  language 
to  suit  his  audience,  and  blushing  under  the  merry 
look  Ida  gave  him.  "But  you  have  n't  entered 
your  complaint  yet ;  and  when  he  comes  up  before 
the  justice,  you  've  only  to  switch  off  from  the 
wrong  charge  upon  the  true  one." 

"  I  really  think  he  ought  to  be  made  an  example," 
observed  Mr.  Walworth. 

"  No  doubt,"  said  Melverton.  "  But  the  worst  of 
it  is,  there  '11  be  a  fine,  which  somebody  will  have 
to  pay  for  him." 

"  Too  bad  to  have  it  fall  on  the  old  chin-piler — I 
mean  his  respectable  grandparent,"  Quimby  has- 
tened to  correct  himself,  under  Ida's  laughing  eyes. 
"  But  he  says  he  won't  pay  any  more  fines  for  him." 

"  He  has  said  that  before,  and  then  paid  them," 
Fred  replied,  consulting  his  watch.  "  But  I  shall 
try  to  hold  him  to  his  resolution  this  time.  Sorry 
to  leave  your  table  so  abruptly,  Mrs.  Lisle ;  but  an 
engagement  with  the  mason,  and  other  disagree- 
able duties — I  'd  a  great  deal  rather  stay  here," 
he  laughed,  with  a  humorously  reluctant  look  at 
Quimby. 

"  Can't  we  let  the  mason  —  and  justice  —  wait  I " 
his  friend  replied.  "I  don't  want  to  leave  this 


216  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

spot.77  He  glanced  from  Mrs.  Lisle  to  Ida,  with  a 
smile  of  frank  enjoyment.  "  But  I  7m  glad  of  one 
more  chance  to  look  into  that  impostor's  soul  —  if 
he  has  one.  There  7s  a  fascination  in  the  fellow's 
eyes.  -Do  you  remember  how  they  blazed  at  his 
gram'er,  Melf ,  when  the  poor  old  creature  wished  to 
fetch  his  4  bettermost 7  coat  ? " 

"  There  '11  be  a  lively  time  when  we  have  him  up 
before  Judge  Carter,"  Fred  said.  "  Come  around  to 
the  police  court  in  about  an  hour,  Tracy,  if  you 
want  to  see  the  fun.77 

The  appointment  with  the  mason  was  kept,  the 
base  of  the  chimney  was  broken  into,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  Gran7sir  Pudgwick,  Chief  Hazel,  and  the 
two  young  men ;  and  the  phoabes7  nest,  still  in  its 
newspaper  wrapping,  was  taken  out.  The  delicate 
eggs  were  broken,  but  the  nest  itself  was  in  good 
condition. 

Canton  Quimby  was  so  thoroughly  convinced 
that  this  was  not  the  only  object  purloined  and 
concealed  by  the  same  hands,  that  he  made  a  thor- 
ough search  amidst  the  soot  and  rubbish  of  the 
chimney,  and  afterward  reexamined  the  stovepipe 
and  the  flue  in  the  shop  above ;  but  nothing  further 
was  brought  to  light. 

"  I  7m  afraid,77  he  said  to  Melverton,  "  that  that 
precocious  master  of  craft  has  beaten  us.77 


OSK   IN  COURT  217 

Arraigned  before  the  village  magistrate,  that 
afternoon,  Osk  Ordway,  with  amazing  effrontery, 
derided  the  charge  of  nest  robbery,  even  when  the 
nest  was  produced  in  evidence.  But  at  the  calling 
of  an  unexpected  witness  his  manner  changed. 

Gideon  Ketterell  was  sworn. 

Gid  gave  his  testimony  in  terror  of  the  vengeance 
threatened  by  Osk's  eyes,  and  also  of  another  pair 
flashing  greenish  fire  upon  him  from  under  a  heavy 
mane  of  tawny  hair,  in  the  rear  of  the  court-room. 
To  the  embarrassed  and  unwilling  witness  the  fear 
of  the  second  pair  of  eyes  was,  for  good  and  whole- 
some reasons,  the  greater. 

Gideon  told  a  pretty  straight  story  of  Osk's  visit 
to  the  Melverton  house  that  memorable  Tuesday, 
omitting  smaller  details ;  of  Osk's  saying,  as  he  left 
the  door,  that  he  was  going  to  look  at  the  phoebes' 
nest  under  the  bridge ;  and  of  his  actually  having 
the  nest  in  his  hat  when  Gid  found  him  sitting 
among  the  bushes  by  the  brookside  afterward. 

"  Is  this  the  nest  1 "  Judge  Carter  inquired. 

Gideon  stooped  over  it,  where  it  lay  in  the  opened 
newspaper  wrapper,  on  the  judge's  table. 

"  I  should  say  so ;  but  the  eggs  was  n't  broke 
then,"  replied  the  witness. 

The  judge  proceeded  with  his  questions,  prompted 
by  Fred  Melverton. 


218  THE  PEIZE  CUP 

"  After  you  saw  it  in  his  hat,  in  the  bushes,  did 
you  ever  see  it  again  until  to-day  ? " 

Grid  hesitated,  and  moved  cautiously  a  step  far- 
ther from  Osk,  who  stood  scowling  near  by,  in  front 
of  the  judge's  desk. 

"  I  did,"  said  the  witness. 

"  Tell  us  where." 

"  He  kept  it  hid  in  the  top  of  the  stovepipe  in 
the  paint-shop.  I  saw  him  take  it  out  and  put  it 
back  again." 

"That  will  do,"  said  the  judge;  and  with  a 
breath  of  relief  Gideon  stepped  back,  followed  by 
the  eyes  of  the  vindictively  leering  prisoner. 

"  It  seems  a  perfectly  plain  case,"  Judge  Carter 
remarked  to  Gran'sir  Pudgwick,  who  sat  frowning 
and  fretting,  and  opening  and  closing  his  tele- 
scopic chin  (to  quote  Canton  Quimby's  lively  ex- 
pression), during  these  revelations.  "I  shall  have 
to  impose  the  fine." 

"  That  's  all  right,  Gran'sir ! "  said  Osk,  with  an 
impatient  shrug.  "  Pony  up,  and  le'  's  get  out  of 
this.  It  makes  me  tired." 

Beads  of  perspiration,  not  produced  solely  by 
the  closeness  of  the  air  of  the  court-room,  glis- 
tened on  the  old  man's  bald  crown  and  visibly 
writhing  features. 


OSK   IN   COURT  219 

"  If  it  must  be,  I  s'pose  it  must,"  he  said  discon- 
tentedly. "But  I  hope,  Judge,  you  '11  put  it  at 
your  lowest  figger." 

"The  statute  fixes  the  fine  at  ten  dollars,"  re- 
plied the  judge.  "I  've  no  discretion  in  the 
matter." 

"  And  what  if  't  ain't  paid  ?  "  asked  the  old  man 
sharply. 

Melverton  and  Quimby  were  watching  him  with 
the  keenest  interest,  and  nudging  each  other.  Osk, 
from  under  his  lowering  brows,  fixed  piercing  eyes 
upon  the  irresolute  gran'sir. 

The  magistrate  of  the  informal  village  court  re- 
laxed into  the  genial  neighbor  as  he  turned  to  give 
Mr.  Pudgwick  friendly  advice. 

"  You  can  have  the  case  continued,  and  employ 
a  lawyer  for  your  grandson,  or  you  can  appeal  it  to 
a  higher  court.  But  the  evidence  is  so  plain,  and 
the  law  so  clear,  that  it  would  be  very  unwise  to 
incur  any  further  cost  in  the  matter." 

"I  don't  want  no  cost.  I  want  to  save  cost.  I 
don't  want  to  pay  that  fine ! "  objected  the  old 
man. 

"Nothing  obliges  you  to  do  it.  And  I  'm  in- 
clined to  think  it  will  be  as  well  for  you  not  to  do 
it,"  remarked  Judge  Carter,  blandly. 


220  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

"Then  what?"  squeaked  the  big  man's  small 
voice,  after  a  moment's  reflection. 

"  He  will  be  committed  to  jail,  and  detained  at 
the  discretion  of  the  court." 

The  old  man  turned  his  eyes  toward  his  grand- 
son, and  demanded,  "  "What  do  you  say  to  that  1 " 

And  Osk  answered  with  an  indignant  scoff: 
"  Just  for  taking  a  bird's  nest  ?  It 's  absurd.  You 
and  gram'er  never  '11  allow  that." 

"  I  hain't  got  ten  dollars  about  me,"  said  the  old 
man,  in  great  trouble  of  mind. 

"No  matter.  You  can  raise  it.  Judge  '11  lend 
it  to  you.  Old  friends,  you  know.  Won't  you, 
Judge  I " 

This  audaciously  cool  request,  on  the  part  of  the 
prisoner,  raised  a  laugh  among  the  dozen  or  twenty 
spectators,  and  tended  to  make  everybody  good- 
natured,  as  Osk  no  doubt  meant  it  should,  only 
the  old  gran'sir  failing  to  see  any  fun  in  his  grand- 
son's impertinence. 

Even  the  judge  had  to  smile,  as  he  remarked, 
"  That  would  be  an  unheard-of  arrangement— for 
the  court  to  impose  a  fine  and  then  proceed  to  pay 
it!" 

"  If  I  could  only  believe  this  was  the  last  of  his 
tricks !  "  the  agitated  old  man  muttered. 


OSK   IN   COURT  221 

"  It 's  the  very  last,  I  promise  you,"  Osk  protested. 
"Get  me  out  of  this  little  scrape,  and  I  '11  be  a 
credit  to  you  after  this." 

"  I  don't  know,"  Gran'sir  Pudgwick  replied,  in  a 
plaintive  murmur.  "  I  've  got  a  little  money  to 
home,  and  if  the  judge  '11  give  me  ten  minutes —  " 

A  gleam  of  triumph  lighted  Osk's  face.  At  that 
moment  an  eager-eyed  youth  pressed  forward  into 
the  court-room. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

"HIS    '  BETTEBMOST '   COAT" 

|ALF  an  hour  earlier,  while  Gideon 
was  giving  his  testimony,  a  yellow 
envelope  had  been  brought  in  by  a 
messenger  and  handed  to  Fred 
Melverton.  Absorbed  in  the  pro- 
ceedings of  the  trial,  he  gave  a  hasty  glance  at  the 
message,  and  then  handed  it  to  Canton  Quimby. 

"But  don't  you  see?"  his  friend  whispered. 
"  This  may  be  important.  When  we  went  through 
his  room  we  saw  nothing  of  the  kind.  I  should 
have  noticed  it." 

"  I  think  I  should,  too,"  Melverton  replied.  "  You 
may  be  right.  It  may  lead  to  something.  I  believe 
I  '11  jump  on  my  wheel  and  skip  over  —  't  won't 
take  long." 

"  No,  no !  You  stay  here.  You  may  be  needed. 
I  '11  go,  or  —  there  's  your  friend!"  And  Quimby 
beckoned  to  Tracy  Lisle,  who  stood  among  the 


"HIS   'BETTERMOST'  COAT"  223 

spectators,  watching  the  young  men  in  consultation 
over  the  yellow  missive. 

"Look  here,  Trace,"  said  Melverton,  showing 
him  the  despatch.  "  Do  you  remember  seeing  any- 
thing of  the  sort  1 " 

"  N-o-o ! "  Tracy  murmured,  glancing  his  eye 
wonderingly  over  the  paper. 

"Suppose  you  take  my  wheel  at  the  door  —  or 
Quimby's ;  you  could  n't  ride  mine,"  Melverton  said; 
"spin  over  to  the  house,  see  if  you  can  find  out 
what  this  means,  and  be  back  here  again  —  " 

" '  Ere  the  leviathan  can  swim  a  league,' "  quoted 
Canton  Quimby. 

Tracy  went,  and  he  had  now  returned.  Flushed 
and  panting  he  quickly  made  his  way  to  his  friends, 
cap  in  hand,  and  carrying  a  coat  on  his  arm. 

"Find  anything  of  it?"  Fred  anxiously  de- 
manded. 

"  No,"  Tracy  whispered  excitedly ;  "  and  I  did  n't 
believe  I  should.  There  was  only  a  crumpled 
handkerchief  lying  on  the  table  in  his  room." 

"  We  're  getting  a  clue,"  said  Quimby,  looking  up 
keenly  at  Osk  Ordway,  who  was  regarding  the  coat 
on  Tracy's  arm  with  a  strangely  intense  and  anx- 
ious expression. 

"  But  I  've  got  it ! "  Tracy  whispered  gleefully. 


224  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

"  The  clue  1 "  asked  Quimby. 

"  The  thing  itself,"  said  Tracy. 

And  he  whispered  a  rapid  explanation  into  the 
ears  of  his  astonished  friends. 

"One  moment,  Mr.  Pudgwick!  Don't  go  just 
yet,"  said  Fred.  The  old  gran'sir,  after  a  consulta- 
tion with  the  judge,  was  setting  off  to  bring  his 
money  with  which  to  pay  the  fine  he  had  before  so 
firmly  resolved  not  to  pay.  "  I  've  a  few  words  to 
say  to  his  honor,"  Melverton  went  on,  rising  to  his 
feet,  "  which  I  prefer  that  you  should  hear.  If  his 
honor  will  permit.77 

"Go  on,"  said  Judge  Carter,  while  all  listened 
intently. 

"  I  should  like  to  explain,"  the  young  man  re- 
sumed, "  that  it  was  a  search  on  our  part  for  very 
different  and  much  more  valuable  plunder  that  led 
to  the  discovery  of  the  bird's  nest  in  Oscar's  posses- 
sion. A  certain  prize  cup  had  been  taken  from  my 
mother's  house  about  the  time  when  he  had  access 
to  it,  and  I  frankly  confess  that  I  suspected  him  of 
appropriating  it.  I  now  as  frankly  own  that  I  was 
mistaken,  and  I  beg  his  pardon." 

Oscar,  who  had  been  making  signs  for  Tracy  to 
give  him  the  coat,  answered  Fred's  acknowledg- 
ment with  a  glassy  smile,  as  if  by  no  means  at  ease 
in  his  mind  in  regard  to  the  situation. 


"HIS   'BETTERMOST'  COAT"  225 

"  Still,"  Melverton  proceeded,  "  I  thought  it  prob- 
able some  other  object  might  have  been  taken — 
a  suspicion  that  could  n't  be  readily  verified  in  a 
hurried  survey  of  the  premises.  But  since  I  have 
been  sitting  here,  a  telegram  has  been  handed 
me,  from  my  brother  Frank," — he  extended  the 
despatch  to  the  judge,  —  "who,  as  your  honor  will 
perceive,  asks  me  to  bring  away — what  he  men- 
tions—  from  the  table  in  his  room." 

Meanwhile  Canton  Quimby  sat  watching,  with 
calm  intensity,  the  changes  in  Osk's  countenance, 
and  he  now  secured  what  he  had  so  ardently  de- 
sired— a  glimpse  into  that  wily  deceiver's  moment- 
arily unmasked  soul.  Fred  continued: 

"I  immediately  sent  iny  friend,  Tracy  Lisle, 
who  has  charge  of  the  house,  to  look  for  what 
should  have  been  on  my  brother's  table,  and  he 
reports  that  it  was  n't  to  be  found.  By  a  singular 
coincidence,  however,  —  "  He  interrupted  himself, 
and  added :  "  Will  your  honor  allow  him  to  make 
a  statement  ? " 

"  The  court  sees  no  objection,"  the  judge  replied. 
"What  is  it,  Tracy!" 

With  his  blue  eyes  sparkling,  and  his  ruddy  fea- 
tures glowing,  Master  Lisle  stepped  forward,  and 
told  his  story. 

"  I  went  on  a  bicycle,  and  as  I  was  passing  Ma- 


226  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

pie  street,  old  Mrs.  Pudgwick  ran  out  to  ask  me 
how  the  trial  was  going.  I  could  n't  wait,  but  she 
seemed  so  troubled,  I  said  I  would  tell  her  when  I 
came  along  back.  I  had  forgotten  all  about  it, 
when,  as  I  was  nearing  Maple  street  again,  I  saw 
her  running  up  from  her  house,  beckoning  and 
calling;  and  I  had  to  stop.  She  had  this  coat"  — 
Tracy  held  it  up  for  all  to  look  at  — "and  when  I 
said  there  was  n't  much  to  tell,  and  was  starting 
on  again,  she  caught  hold  of  me. 

" '  Do,  please,  take  him  this,'  she  said,  i  so  he  '11 
have  something  decent  to  put  on.  It 's  his  "  better- 
most  "  coat.  His  gran'sir  was  going  to  carry  it  to 
him,'  she  told  me ;  '  but  I  could  n't  find  it  when  he 
started  off;  I  've  had  the  greatest  hunt!  What 
the  boy  wanted  to  tuck  it  away  out  o'  sight  so  for, 
I  can't  imagine ! ' 

"  *  All  right ;  I  '11  give  it  to  him,'  I  said ;  but  as 
she  was  handing  it  to  me,  she  noticed  something 
heavy  in  one  of  the  pockets,  which  she  had  been  in 
too  great  a  hurry  to  give  any  thought  to  before. 
It  thumped  against  the  handle-bar  like  this." 

Tracy  swung  the  loaded  pocket  against  the 
judge's  table  with  a  muffled  thud,  as'  he  added : 

"  I  started  to  take  it  out  for  her.  She  saw  it, 
and  was  ever  so  much  astonished.  Then  I  said, 


•;* 


"HIS   'BETTERMOST'  COAT"  229 

4  Never  mind ! '  flung  the  coat  over  my  arm,  and 
here  it  is  !  " 

It  was  now  Melverton's  turn  to  resume  his  ex- 
planation. 

"  The  thing  in  the  pocket  is  this, —  "  holding  it 
up  before  the  eyes  of  judge,  prisoner,  and  specta- 
tors,—  "  my  brother  Frank's  revolver.  He  meant 
to  carry  it  with  him  to  the  seaside,  but  must  have 
left  it  behind  by  accident,  in  the  hurry  of  depar- 
ture. He  seems  to  remember  placing  it  on  his 
dressing-table,  where  it  somehow  got  overlooked 
at  the  last  moment.  He  now  telegraphs  for  it,  as 
there  is  to  be  target-shooting  to-morrow.  Your 
honor  will  notice  what  a  curiously  wrought  and 
perfect  weapon  it  is ;  and  that  it  has  my  brother's 
initials  on  the  butt-cap.  How  it  passed  from  his 
dressing-table  into  Oscar  Ordway's  pocket,  Oscar 
will  perhaps  explain." 

"  I  see  now,"  Chief  Hazel  observed,  stepping  up 
to  examine  the  weapon,  "  why  he  objected  so  to 
his  grandmother's  getting  his  'bettermost'  coat 
when  I  took  him  from  the  house." 

Oscar  attempted  no  explanations,  but  stood  sul- 
lenly defiant;  and  when  Tracy  handed  him  the 
coat,  with  an  angry  stroke  of  his  arm  he  flung  it 
upon  the  floor.  There  it  lay  in  the  dust  at  his  feet 


230  THE  PEIZE  CUP 

until  old  man  Pudgwick  stooped  with  a  groan  to 
gather  it  up. 

Judge  Carter  asked  if  Melverton  wished  to  enter 
a  complaint  against  Osk  for  the  far  more  serious 
offense  just  brought  to  light. 

"  I  don't  see  how  I  can  well  shirk  that  duty," 
Fred  replied,  "  although  it  will  be  a  very  painful 
one.  I  trust  I  am  not  actuated  by  the  slightest 
feeling  of  ill  will.  But  I  am  convinced  that  it  will 
be  a  good  thing  for  the  community,  for  his  grand- 
parents, and  for  Oscar  himself,  if  he  is  placed  in 
some  reformatory  institution,  where  he  will  acquire 
habits  of  industry  and  good  behavior,  which  he 
will  never  do  in  his  present  surroundings.  I  think 
his  grandfather  will,  upon  reflection,  agree  with 
me." 

"Mr.  Melverton  is  right!"  Mr.  Pudgwick  re- 
plied with  strong  emotion,  mechanically  brushing 
the  dust  from  his  grandson's  "bettermost"  coat. 
"And  I  guess  his  gram'er  '11  be  of  the  same  way  of 
thinking  when  she  knows." 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 


WHO   KEPT   THE   CUP 

HESE  events  happened  so  short  a 
time  ago  that  there  is  little  more  to 
tell.  Oscar  was  in  due  course  sent 
to  the  State  Reformatory ;  where,  I 
am  pleased  to  learn,  he  is  making 
an  unexpectedly  good  record,  showing  what  needed 
discipline  can  sometimes  do  in  the  case  of  a  ne'er- 
do-well  who  fails  to  get  his  deserts  at  home. 

His  absence  from  the  village  has  proved  a  bless- 
ing to  the  class  of  boys  who  were  formerly  under 
his  influence ;  so  much  of  ill  in  a  whole  community 
is  often  owing  to  the  bad  example  of  one  or  two 
reckless  leaders.  Gideon  has  gone  to  work;  and 
Gleorge  Oliver,  no  longer  finding  anything  to  ridi- 
cule in  Tracy  Lisle's  "  aristocratic  ways,"  is  trying, 
like  him,  honestly  and  truly  to  "  make  the  best  of 
himself.77 

In  his  letters  to  his  grandparents  Oscar  makes 


231 


232  THE  PRIZE  CUP 

no  hypocritical  pretenses  of  penitence  or  affection, 
but  he  sometimes  alludes  to  the  comforts  of  home 
in  a  way  that  shows  how  much  better  he  appre- 
ciates the  privileges  and  blessings  of  which  he  is 
temporarily  deprived  than  he  ever  did  when  in  the 
enjoyment  of  them. 

"  How  I  M  like  to  walk  in  and  sit  down  in  the 
corner  with  you  both  this  evening ! "  Or,  "  If  I  only 
had  some  of  grandmother's  good" — this  or  that, 
—  meaning  the  dishes  she  used  to  prepare  for  him 
with  such  loving  pains,  often  to  receive  only  cross 
words  and  scowling  looks  in  return. 

The  old  people  prize  these  letters  more  than  they 
do  anything  else  in  the  world;  and  find  in  their 
grandson  the  solace  of  their  lives,  now  that  he 
is  separated  from  them. 

As  for  Midget,  who  is  the  real  hero  of  this  story, 
if  it  has  a  hero,  he  is  making  extraordinary  pro- 
gress in  the  line  of  education  his  mother  fortu- 
nately hit  upon,  after  so  many  disappointments. 
The  word  cup  proved  the  key  that  was  to  open  a 
new  world  to  his  childish  mind.  When  it  was 
shown  to  him  in  print,  he  realized  for  the  first  time 
that  the  alphabet  signified  speech,  and  became  in- 
terested in  what  had  failed  to  fix  his  attention 
before.  Simultaneously  with  the  printed  alpha- 


WHO  KEPT   THE  CUP  233 

bet  he  learned  the  sign-alphabet  of  the  deaf-mutes ; 
and  each  newly-acquired  name  of  a  thing  became 
fixed  in  his  memory,  associated  with  its  three  dif- 
ferent forms  of  expression :  the  spoken  word,  the 
written  or  printed  letters,  and  the  finger  move- 
ments by  which  the  same  sounds  were  represented. 

The  various  steps  in  his  progress  would  form  an 
interesting  story ;  but  we  have  no  place  for  it  here. 
Now  in  his  eighth  year  he  can  pronounce  a  great 
many  common  words,  and  read  many  more  from 
familiar  lips  (the  speech  of  strangers  giving  him 
much  greater  difficulty);  further  than  this,  he  can 
read  and  write  as  well  as  many  boys  of  his  age  who 
can  hear  and  who  have  enjoyed  the  advantage  of 
school  instruction.  He  has  been  taught  wholly  at 
home,  and  his  mother  and  Ida  will  probably  con- 
tinue his  teachers  for  some  time  yet,  although  Fred 
Melverton  claims  the  privilege  of  defraying  his  ex- 
penses at  the  famous  Northampton  school. 

Fred  would  never  allow  the  Prize  Cup  to  be  re- 
turned to  the  Melverton  home.  It  is  so  curiously 
associated  with  a  most  interesting  incident  in  the 
child's  life,  that  the  owner  has  had  the  inscription 
on  it  filled  out  in  a  different  way  from  what  was 
originally  intended ;  so  that,  after  the  date  of  the 
race,  it  reads : 


234 


THE  PRIZE  CUP 


"  Won  by  Frederick  Melverton,  and  by  him  pre- 
sented to  his  dear  young  friend,  Laurie  Lisle." 

It  stands  on  a  mantel  in  the  old  parsonage ;  and 
the  last  time  I  saw  it  there,  the  little  nest  of  fine 
hay,  which  had  been  removed  only  that  the  en- 
graving might  be  completed,  again  showed,  soft 
and  brown,  against  the  golden  lining. 

The  phoebes  never  knew  how  kind  the  child 
meant  to  be  to  them.  But  they  have  returned  to 
the  old  bridge,  and  have  a  new  nest  of  their  own 
this  spring. 


The  prize 


cup 


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